


Silence Implies Consent

by Elin Eriksen (Vaarin)



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice (1995), Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Sexual Assault, Betrayal, F/M, Family Drama, Heartbreak, No Smut, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 44,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24928483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaarin/pseuds/Elin%20Eriksen
Summary: Sequel to PnP. A worst-case scenario where canon goes awry after ODC have exchanged their marriage vows. Shortly after the honeymoon, their marriage breaks apart and a long separation follows (not in page-time) where both Elizabeth and Mr Darcy are victims of a cruel and distorted mind. Prepare for something dreadful... Disliking characters you usually like. Angst, drama, betrayal, attempted sexual assault, HEA for ODC.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Georgiana Darcy/Colonel Fitzwilliam, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley
Comments: 22
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title “Silence Implies Consent” is ironical. Silence does not imply consent, in fact, if I remain silent it usually the other way around, as it is in this story...

Silence Implies Consent

Chapter 1 

Pemberley 1812

Mrs Reynolds came to announce that Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana had arrived. Elizabeth suggested that they should be brought to the blue parlour and went in search of her husband to tell him the anticipated news.  
Elizabeth would have preferred, at least, another month of newly wedded bliss before they received visitors but the Colonel had brought her new sister to Pemberley after more than a month of exile with the Matlocks in London. She could not in good conscience deny her sister entry to her own home. With her husband constantly fretting about his sister well being, it was better for his equilibrium she was safely at home.

Georgiana was a lovely but reserved girl on the verge of womanhood, Elizabeth greatly anticipated getting to know her better. So far from home and all her other sisters, a new one was heartily welcome. The little she knew of Georgiana boded well for the future. She possessed a sweetness and kindness of heart that rivalled Jane's, all she really lacked was a little more confidence...

The Colonel was a welcomed visitor as well. He was an entertaining guest and a close confidant of Mr Darcy who perceived him more as a brother than a cousin. The men had grown up together, visiting frequently since their early childhood. Later they had attended Eton and Cambridge together and formed a coalition against the more and more debauched Mr Wickham. Elizabeth had rubbed along well with the Colonel at Rosings, engaging him frequently in teasing his cousin...

The Colonel slapped Mr Darcy on his back and enveloped Elizabeth in a warm embrace.  
Elizabeth felt awkward and struggled to conceal it, she was not in the habit hugging all and sundry.   
She gave Charlotte and Jane an occasional hug when they had been parted for an extended period of time but she had not even hugged her father since she was a little girl.  
She did not know the Colonel well enough for such a display of familiarity.   
They had met but the one time at Rosings which was months past and again, briefly at their wedding.

Her husband had become another matter entirely. She had eventually grown accustomed to his touch although it had been embarrassing in at first, especially the unclothed part.  
She had resisted but her husband had been very persuasive. In the end, she had relented and had even admitted, albeit reluctantly, that he was right...

“It is so good to see you both. You look so well, marriage must agree with you although I find it particularly compatible with you, Elizabeth. I hope you do not mind dropping the formalities, we are cousins after all?”

“We are indeed, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth replied. 

Elizabeth noticed Mr Darcy eyebrows knit together, something had displeased him but she was not sure if she were the recipient... The familiarity between them had grown with a month's seclusion at Pemberley but her husband was a man of many layers, the unpeeling had just begun. Hopefully, the unravelling of every aspect of his character would divert her for years to come.

Elizabeth greeted her new sister by seizing both her hands accompanied with a warm welcome home. Expressing her hope that she had had a pleasurable time in London and an uneventful journey home.  
Georgiana, eager to please, shared generously of the events she had partaken in town before their guests were afforded some time to refresh themselves before dinner.  
~***~  
The meal was a lively affair with much to discuss regarding Georgiana's come out next spring. She would be seventeen in January and bot guardians agreed she was ready to be presented into society. If the Queen were to hold any drawing-rooms next spring was less certain but balls and parties would still be had in abundance.  
The sexes did not part after the meal was consumed. Instead, all the residents removed to the music room where Georgiana and Elizabeth took turns in entertaining the gentlemen. A pleasant evening eventually came to an end and the party agreed to retire early which the newlyweds did not mind at all.   
~***~  
Mr Darcy often read a book in the library while his wife readied herself for bed. His own preparations were much less time-consuming and he was too impatient to wait unoccupied.   
He dismissed the notion this night, concerned his cousin should happen upon him and waylay him with brandy and billiards. 

Richard was his favourite cousin, more like a brother really but not even his excellent storytelling skills nor the temptation of defeating him in billiards could lure him away from his tempting new wife.  
The addition of his sister and cousin left little opportunity for the stolen liberties he had grown accustomed to seize, whenever and wherever an opportunity presented itself.  
Besides, his cousin intended to stay until Christmas when they would all travel together to the Matlock estate to celebrate the festive season. There would be plenty of opportunities to trounce Richard in billiards.  
~***~  
The following week brought the two male cousins much in each other's company, laying down battle plans for the oncoming season which they would have to partake at a much greater extent than they were accustomed to. At least, Mr Darcy had to. The Colonel had been summoned and would depart for Portugal after twelfth night which meant this was their only chance to agree upon some ground rules for a long while. The Colonel had no fixed date for his return to English soil.  
Elizabeth's and Georgiana's days were much occupied with learning to run a large household and getting to know each other better. Somewhat at the expense of time that could have been spent with Mr Darcy and his cousin. With Georgiana's come out approaching rapidly, there really was no time to lose. Elizabeth had soon realized that thorough knowledge was important for Georgiana’s confidence in herself and was doing her best to prepare her.  
The Colonel and Mr Darcy were partially placated by frequent requests to partner with the ladies during the dancing lessons. A chore they did not mind the least. Even the scandalous waltz had been practised diligently. 

~***~

Elizabeth could not sleep. She had been married for a little more than a month and had already grown accustomed to having her husband by her side when she retired.   
Perhaps, he was in the library, fallen asleep over a book? It would not be the first time she had encountered him thus…  
Elizabeth pulled on her warm robe and slipped down the stairs with a candle in her hand. Tiptoeing, as not to alert any servants that the mistress was roaming the library in search of her husband. It would do her no service for them to encounter their mistress in such casual attire. She had enough to prove as it was, entering the household as an unknown southerner, bringing little of consequence to the marriage but herself. She was going to earn their respect though, her mind was quite fixed on the matter.  
The secret spiral staircase let out a loud creak as she descended. Elizabeth froze and listened for approaching footsteps. The hidden passage from the master's chamber above to the library below was one of the first features her husband had shown her and the reason she had not bothered dressing appropriately. Fortunately, no footsteps could be heard approaching. Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief and slipped into the darkened library through the hidden door, disguised as a bookshelf.   
A few embers glowed faintly in the hearth, casting long shadows into the room. Mr Darcy's favourite wingback chair was empty, he must still be with his cousin. She would have thought the Colonel had retired by now...   
The two cousins appeared to be close, her husband thought the world of his older, battle-worn relation. Often bringing up the honour and prowess he had exhibited on the battlefield.  
Elizabeth liked the Colonel well enough herself, he was an excellent conversationalist and a fabulous storyteller but she did not worship the ground he walked on like her husband. Their acquaintance was of much shorter duration. Perhaps a more profound fondness would grow with time and familiarity.   
Elizabeth let out another sigh, they must be lingering in the billiard room, on the floor below on the opposite side of the main staircase. She was not about to saunter that far in her nightgown and robe, not when Fitzwilliam most probably was busy entertaining his guest. She might as well find herself something to read while she had so many books to choose from. The cousins might revel into the wee hours of the mourning if some of the more humorous tales about her husband and the Colonel were true.   
She padded along the shelves, searching for something to distract her. Preferably a tome of something utterly boring to lull her to sleep, like geography or crop rotation...  
Raising her candle to read the spines, she recognised the novel section, not what she needed at the moment. Venturing deeper into the room, she cursed her neglectfulness in taking the time to familiarize herself with the library. She had had little time between taking on her household duties and the pleasures of her husband’s attentions.  
Finally, she found the shelf she had been looking for, a volume of the history of tapestries looked interesting but dull enough to have the desired effect yet it was practical knowledge for an estate owners wife. She tried to ease the volume from its cramped position but the stubborn book did not budge. It was wedged between the many other historical tomes her husband had collected.   
She put down the candle on a side table to free both hands to pull out the restricted book with one hand while using the other hand to restrain the others from following in its wake.   
Warm breath on her neck made her shudder but not in an unpleasant manner. She loved when her husband kissed her neck until she grew breathless and her toes curled. His hands sidled around her waist and trailed upwards, creating a strange sensation through the multiple fabrics. She preferred his hands roaming without the cumbersome fabric in between, now that she had familiarized herself with the notion. His lips trailed her neck, her breathing became laboured. ‘This was not the time nor the place, she should stop it before it got out of hand. There was, however, no doubt she had married a passionate man...’

“Fitzwilliam,” she whispered as light suddenly flooded into the room. ‘Drat, the servants... Probably a footman that had noticed the faint light in the library. The servants of Pemberley house were diligent in their work.’ She could not tell until he lowered the lamp he was carrying and she could discern his countenance. 

Horror flooded through her veins, her heart pounded through her ears so loudly she barely heard her own gasp. She turned and looked straight into the Colonel’s amused expression. She turned back at the door. Her husband approached her in long strides, rage suffusing his features. The hair on her neck stood on end.

“It is not what it seems...”

“What! Am I blind or asleep? Walking around in my worst nightmare?”

“I thought he was you.”

“Right, Fitzwilliam happens to be both our names but the similarities ends there. How could you? How could either of you betray me like this.”

Mr Darcy's glare shifted between the two culprits.

“Especially you, Elizabeth! Pretending affront when he wanted to address you with your Christian name while not minding giving him your most intimate favours. What a fool I have been...”

“You are no fool, Fitzwilliam. Please believe me, I swear I thought he was you. I could not see, my candle was on the table beside me and you often sneak up on me from behind to kiss my neck...”

Elizabeth now understood what it was really like, to be regarded with utter contempt by Mr Darcy. The looks he had sent her in their previous dealings in Meryton and Kent was nothing like the cold blackness he levelled at her now. Not a shred of warmth remained... 

Mr Darcy turned his black eyes towards his cousin.

“She is as wanton as you described her, Darcy. Ready and willing at all times. Come on, do not look at me like that. I am several inches shorter than you and my hands are half the size of yours. Even if I had not made myself known the moment she entered, she must have noticed the difference. You know how she flirted with me at Rosings. Sought me out at every gathering and hang on to every word I said. I thought I should give her a test which she obviously failed miserably.   
Better late than never, cousin. We Fitzwilliams look out for each other. Would you rather not have known?”

The Colonel walked over to Mr Darcy and swatted his cousin, jovially on his shoulder.  
Elizabeth would have liked to smack the Colonel, with something hard, preferably over the head. Instead, she clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white. Mr Darcy would see through his cousin's despicable lies, he had to...

“Good riddance, I would say.” He smirked at Elizabeth who was looking like a combination of a skittish and enraged foal.

“I would have preferred this knowledge before I married her, cousin.” Mr Darcy sneered, not taking his eyes off his treacherous wife.

“You must be drunk, both of you! How many have you had?” Elizabeth finally found her voice. She could not believe her eyes nor her ears. Nothing made sense to her. Except for Darcy's anger, she could well imagine how it must have looked to him but surely, he would see reason...

“Not enough, obviously.” Her husband replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“You should know enough of my frankness to realise I would not lie to you,” Elizabeth tried to remind him of their previous dealings. Unfortunately, it backfired... 

“Yes, I know your frank opinions of me well enough madam. I want you gone, the both of you.”

“Gone?” Elizabeth whispered. Dread filling her chest, making it hard to breathe. “Why?”

“Because I cannot stand the sight of either of you. Should I never lay my eyes on you again, it will be too soon. Get out of my house!” Mr Darcy was roaring from the top of his lungs by the time he had finished.

“It is the dead of night, in the middle of the winter, Mr Darcy. Are you throwing me out in my nightgown?”

“You should have thought about that before you met my cousin for a liaison in my library.”

“You want me to freeze to death?”

“Right, scurry up to your room and change into something warm. Then you may leave. I give you fifteen minutes. If you are not on your way out the door by the amounted time, I will throw you out with whatever you are wearing so I would make haste, if I were you...”

The Colonel had been suspiciously quiet for their last exchanges. He looked shocked but Elizabeth figured not as stunned as herself. What could have possessed him? It was as if he wanted to be caught, relying on his long-standing relationship with her husband to pull him through.

“You too, Colonel Fitzwilliam. You needed not to darken my door again either.”

“We are family, Darcy. Do not let a wench come between us...”

“Wife, Colonel Fitzwilliam, my wife. I am chained to her for the rest of my life. You had ample opportunity to say something sooner. How am I supposed to beget an heir now? She might outlive me...”

“Georgiana’s offspring may inherit.”

“That is an awful lot to put on her tiny shoulders.”

“I will help you and Georgiana.”

“No, you will not. I want you out of here. You too, Elizabeth. You have already spent three of your allotted fifteen minutes, listening to this cuckold before me.”

The Colonel seemed to realise he was losing the battle, if not the war. Fitzwilliam Darcy was unmoveable in his state of fury.

“Very well, have it your way, Darcy.” The Colonel snarled. “You will regret it though. Remember cousin, I am still Georgiana's guardian. Nothing will ever tempt me to sign her settlement papers to anyone, not of my choosing. I am the son of an Earl, my signature will always matter more than yours. Get ready, Elizabeth. I will take you with me to Matlock. I will find a cottage for you to stay in.”

Elizabeth gasped and ran out of the library, up the stairs and along the hallway until she reached her room. Paying scant attention to the maids and footmen that had gathered outside the library. Some wore knowing smirks on their countenances while others looked genuinely stunned. One maid was sobbing but Elizabeth could not afford to slow down nor offer her comfort. She was in too much peril herself.  
She skidded into her dressing room and threw a few items into her carpetbag while wrenching off her robe. The nightgown she left on as it was just a shift. She put on as many layers as possible with the speed that was necessary. She pulled at her wedding ring but it would not budge. The rest of her jewellery lay untouched on her dressing table. She did lift the lid and pull out the little pouch of coins that she had brought from Longbourn. The content was hers, hard-earned and meticulously saved. The clothes she wore and the items she had packed were all articles she had owned when her name was still Elizabeth Bennet.  
Fortunately, her old winter coat was tucked into the back of her dressing room. Discarded, well worn and of a dreary brown colour. It had served her well for years and Jane before her... It would have to do, her new red, fur-lined coat was at the anteroom by the main entrance. Not that she wanted to bring anything her so-called husband had bought her. Well, almost nothing. She did pack some biscuits and a bottle of wine. 

A chapter of her life had abruptly closed, she wanted to bring no memorabilia into the next.

With no time to lose, Elizabeth snuck stealthily out the servants' entrance, down the darkened stairs and out a side entrance leading to the western forest. It was a hazardous option but there was no way in hell she would follow the Colonel anywhere.   
Part of her wanted to wait until tomorrow. If Fitzwilliam should change his mind... No, it was a futile wish with no anchorage in reality... She better leave such desires behind than carry them with her, hidden underneath her breast.

The west-facing entrance of her choice led directly to the river Derwent, she took a well-trodden path by the servants. It was not far and she could follow the river to Rowsley where she hopefully could catch the mail coach. She did not dare venture near Lambton nor Kympton in case the Colonel was determined to have her company. She was of no mind to oblige him...

Elizabeth shuddered at the thought but trudged on through the heavy snow. It dawned on her that she needed a story. If she presented herself to the coachman as Mrs Darcy, he might refuse her and send for her husband.   
She would not be lying, she was Mrs Darcy no longer but neither was she Elizabeth Bennet. Reinventing herself, she tugged out the hairpins that still held her tresses in an elaborate style. Ran her fingers through it and tied it into a simple knot at the back of her head with a ribbon. Her garments were old and mended, making it plausible it was handy downs from a mistress of a large house. She would present herself as a lady's maid, on her way to a new position in the south. 

~***~

The river weaved its way through the landscape, seemingly never-ending. Elizabeth was bone tired, practically sleeping on her feet when she arrived at Rowsley. Dawn had not broken yet but she guessed it could not be long until the sun would grace the horizon. It must have been about four miles but the heavy snow had slowed her down and tired her out.

There was no Inn at Rowsley but there was a post office. Very few people were out, just a few servants hustled about their chores.   
Elizabeth approached a young girl to ask when the coach was expected. The news was not good, the coach was not expected until the next day. Elizabeth’s slumped shoulders and crestfallen expression must have tugged on the maids heart-strings.

“Have you no place to go, Miss?”

Elizabeth shook her head, not correcting her perception of her as unmarried. Her wedding ring was safely concealed under her gloves.

“I guess I must go back and wait for another day...”

“Is it far?” The maid inquired.

“A few miles downstream, I followed the river hither.” Elizabeth thought it might be wise to not divulge the direction she had come from. “I have walked all night to catch the coach which I was told left early this morning...” 

The lies tasted foul in her mouth. Had she not a few hours before, sworn to her honesty? Better not let her thoughts run down that particular path. Tears welled in her eyes, whether she wanted them to or not...

“I will ask Mrs Stanley if you can sleep with me tonight. It might cost you a few shillings but it is better than walking for miles in the heavy snow or to stay outside in the cold.”

“Who is Mrs Stanley?”

“She is an old widow. She lives alone, I am her maid-of-all-works.”

“Thank you, I can pay a few shillings and help out with whatever I can.”

The girls walked to the outskirts of the village where Mrs Stanley lived in a quaint cottage. The lady did not mind the company, glad for another listener to her stories and even happier for the few shillings Elizabeth offered to pay her for the room and board.   
Elizabeth was thankful for the distraction and busied herself with mending while the old lady talked about days gone by.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

Longbourne December 06th 1812

Elizabeth stood outside Longbourn, looking at the home she loved for two decades.  
It had shrunken since she left, barely two months ago... It did not hold the comfort she had expected when she espied it through the trees. Instead, she had felt a pang in her chest that robbed her of her breath. It was the finality of it. She was home, the discarded wife. She should be glad he had not offered her up for auction with a halter around her neck. It was not unheard of that a husband sold his wife when the marriage was particularly unsatisfactory. There were even stories circulating about local poor law commissioners that had forced husbands to sell their wives rather than having to maintain them at the workhouses.

Longbourn looked deserted, it was eerily quiet. No lights were lit in the front parlour, no curious faces had appeared in any of the windows.   
Elizabeth remembered that she come on foot, not by carriage. She had made no sounds that would alert them of her presence.

~***~

To avoid gossip, she had not stepped off the coach in Meryton. The rumours of her decline would have been spread all over the town by nightfall.  
She had left the coach at East Hyde and walked the two and a half-mile to Meryton where she had chosen to follow a path in the woods that did not lead her through the town itself. She needed to talk to her father. A story would have to be concocted, she could not divulge the truth. Her remaining sisters’ reputation would suffer most grievously, should the sordid tale ever become known.

The cold was seeping through her bones, she needed to take the next step, soon...

A window opened up and her father’s white hair appeared.

“Elizabeth?”

Mr Bennet never called her Elizabeth, it was always my Lizzy. The lack of endearment widened the gap Elizabeth felt towards her old home.

“Yes.” She could not pretend she was not there when he had obviously spotted her.

“Come in, child. It is freezing outside.”

One foot stepped in front of the other by their own volition. Taking her to her father’s study. The quietness she had perceived from outside, continued on the inside.

“Where is everyone?”

“It is the first Tuesday of the month, it is the Assembly night.”

‘How could she have forgotten? Two months seemed to have erased a lifetime.’

Elizabeth slumped down into the chair in front of her father. Her fatigue must show on her countenance but she had not the strength to conceal it.

“What brings you here, Elizabeth? On foot, as far as I can see.”

Elizabeth had thought it would be difficult to disclose her disgrace to her father. It was not... In a flat voice, not her own, she explained without emotion the events that had brought her to his door. 

Her father’s countenance was folded in grave lines when she was finished. Not a glimmer of irony nor sarcasm could be discerned. He rested his elbows on his desk and steepled his fingers while looking unseeingly in front of himself. The silence stretched for minutes but Elizabeth did not mind. The silence was comforting after travelling on the cramped coach with chattering strangers. Asking all kinds of prying questions she beheld no answers to.

“I should never have consented to the marriage.”

“Do not trouble yourself, father. You could not have known...”

“I have known enough of these men of elevated rank and their perception of their self-importance. They care for none but themselves and their prized connections.”

“Mr Darcy is not like that, he is a respected landlord and master of the house.”

“Yes, he deserves our respect. Throwing his wife out of his house in the middle of winter?”

Mr Bennet’s sarcasm had not left him entirely.

“May, I stay here?” Elizabeth cringed by the pleading in her own voice.

Mr Bennet looked at her intently.

“You may stay for the time being, until I can come up with some other solution. I cannot offer you much but I will provide for you in some manner. You must understand, Elizabeth, that when this becomes known, it will create difficulties for your sisters. Mary is being courted by the new curate in Meryton. He cannot afford to marry yet and not at all to a girl with a fallen sister. There will be talk regardless of the story we tell when a newly wedded wife visits her parents so soon. There will be rumours of trouble. If you stay too long, the rumours will be confirmed by no input from us. Do you think Mr Darcy will tell his friends and family?”

“I cannot say, I doubt it... He was so angry, papa, and hurt... Eventually, people will notice my absence regardless of what he does. Servants will talk, rumours will spread. It is only a matter of time.”

“Let me make some inquiries, I will see what I can do. You look knackered, get some sleep.”

Elizabeth nodded, too discouraged to talk. She had not thought about the precarious position she had put her sisters in but what other option did she have?

Her feet took her to her old chamber. The bed was not made but she did not care. She found an old throw, removed her outer garments and fell into a dreamless sleep.

~***~

The surprise was great when Elizabeth appeared in Longbourn’s breakfast parlour the next morning. Loud exclamation was heard from Mrs Bennet about her illustrious daughter’s visit. Her explanation of being dropped off by her husband on his way to town on business was immediately accepted without questions. Mrs Bennet could see no errors in that way of thinking. Elizabeth was content with coming up with a plausible excuse that explained why there was neither a husband nor a carriage, presently at Longbourn.

Mary had blossomed, it was easy to steer the conversation in her direction. Mary basked in the attention, eagerly sharing her beau’s essentials. 

Elizabeth had no concerns. Mr Richardson sounded like Mary's perfect match in every way. She could still feel pleasure about her sister’s prosperity. It was her own affairs that left her emotions numb.

Kitty, she noticed, was quiet most of the time but held a secret smile that sometimes burst forward. The reason became obvious when Mrs Bennet revealed that Mr Lucas, Charlotte’s brother and the heir to Lucas Lodge, was expected home for good any day now. He had enlisted in the navy, despite being the heir to an estate. If the rumours were to be believed, he would return with a hefty sum of prize money. Time would tell, Elizabeth did see the value of money but did no longer believe it created the happiness her mother assumed. 

All in all, the breakfast went well. Mrs Bennet could not decide whom they should visit first. She eventually concluded that her sister, Mrs Phillips, should have the honour but Elizabeth begged off. Claiming fatigue from her travels.   
Mrs Bennet made unintelligible delighted sounds and winked at her. She obviously had a different opinion about Elizabeth’s fatigue, claiming Jane to be the product of her wedding night when simple calculus would make her a few weeks early... 

~***~

Elizabeth’s fatigue lingered throughout the day. The visit to Mrs Phillips was postponed to the next day and Elizabeth was granted a day of rest. It did not suffice to restore Elizabeth to her former self. She doubted she would ever feel like herself again. For the moment, she felt like someone detached from her inner being. Regarding herself from the outside in.

~***~

Jane, Mrs Bingley, was expected to return to Netherfield the week before Christmas. Mrs Bennet kept Elizabeth busy, towing her around on numerous visits around town while she waited for her sister to come home. The smile she plastered on her countenance from early morning to late in the evening was wearing her down. She looked forward to letting it drop when Jane finally came home. To allow herself to grieve...

~***~

December 22nd

The Bingley's stopped by Longbourn on their way back to Netherfield. Somehow, Elizabeth had imagined the reunion with her most beloved sister to be in her sole company.

Jane and Mr Bingley brought gaiety to Longbourn. Eager to celebrate their first Christmas together, they oozed of happiness and felicity. Jane pulled Elizabeth into a fierce embrace, exclaiming how happy she was to see her. At that moment, Elizabeth realized that she could not burden her sister with her sordid tale. It would be cruel to lay the heavy weight of knowledge on her sister’s shoulders or even sow discord between the newlyweds. Mr Bingley was Mr Darcy's dear friend after all. Besides, the Bennet family needed one good marriage to secure their future...  
Jane inquired after Elizabeth’s news which she immediately turned on Jane and made the visit about the Bingleys sojourn to London. The plays they had seen and the shops they had visited were thoroughly discussed until the Bingleys had to leave. Elizabeth had even managed to add a few titbits Georgiana had shared from her prolonged stay in London, making an appearance of normalcy.

Elizabeth followed her father to his study as soon as the door closed on her sister and brother. She sat in front down in front of him and begged him to find a means for her to remove herself.

“Papa?” She had not called him that since she became betrothed to Mr Darcy. “Please tell me you have found a place for me to go...”

“I have, child. I thought you would want to stay past the Yuletide though.”

“I cannot, it would be strange to seemingly stay away from my husband. I cannot invent more lies nor feign a gaiety I do not feel.”

“I understand, we will leave for London in the morning. I will take you to Gracechurch Street. Your uncle has found a cottage that is within my means.   
It is small, you will not be able to live the way you are accustomed to.   
Mr Gardiner has given you five hundred pounds to live on. You will have to make it last. I had hoped you would not touch the capital but manage on the interest. I will add fifty pounds annually and pay the rent of the cottage until I draw my last breath. After that, you will be on your own if not your uncle has mercy on you and give you something but I may outlive him. One never knows... Elizabeth, the one thousand pounds you will eventually inherit from your mother will go to your husband when her time comes. You cannot count on that either... ”

“Thank you, papa.” 

Elizabeth rose and hurried to her chamber. Tears were spilling over but it was not brought on by grief. It was tears of relief. Relief that she would no longer be required to hold up this fraudulent facade she was fighting so hard to maintain. 

Elizabeth slept well for the first night since she had left Pemberley behind.

~***~

December 23rd Gracechurch Street

Elizabeth’s facade crumbled the moment she laid her eyes on her aunt Gardiner. No amount of effort could prevent the tears from falling nor the sobs springing from her throat.  
Her little cousins looked upon her with insecure faces, she bent down to greet them with fierce hugs and proclamations of the joy she felt by seeing them.

“You are distraught, Elizabeth. Come, let me escort you to your room to rest.”

Aunt Gardiner led her to her the guest room she usually shared with her sister Jane when they came to visit.  
Elizabeth cried, she could not speak. Her aunt left her for a few moments of time but it took hours before Elizabeth calmed and when she did, she fell promptly asleep.

~***~

It was late in the evening before Elizabeth could relate her sorrows to her aunt. Her aunt listened but commented little. Elizabeth knew nothing could be done, her aunt's silence did not bother her.   
When she was done, she thanked her aunt for listening to her woes and joined the family for the supper meal. 

The party removed to her uncle’s study where her fate was described. Elizabeth was drained and had little to contribute other than repeat her gratitude towards her aunt, uncle and father. Knowing very well she could never repay their benevolence.

The next morning, she left Gracechurch Street and her relations behind. The chance of her ever seeing any of them again was slim and far into the future. She was an outcast in society with seventy pounds annually to live on. She had to learn how to cook for herself. Luckily, she had spent many mornings in Longbourn's kitchen. She would not starve...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

He had given her the fifteen minutes and then some but no Miss Bennet appeared. He chose to address her such in his mind and conjectured her angry visage from the parsonage in Hunsford as his mental image of her.  
‘The nerve of that strumpet. Had he known then what he knew now, he never would have offered her a position as a scullery maid and much less the honour of wife. The scruples he had suffered before he formed any designs on her had just proven natural and just. In fact, he had been too kind when he declared she and her sister to be exempt from the scorn he had ladled on the rest of her family. If his sojourn to Netherfield had not taught him that, his undertaking into the seedier part of London to rescue her promiscuous sister should have set off his alarm bells. What blindness could have prevented him from seeing the truth? It certainly was not love. Love did not feel like this. Love did not rip the heart from your chest or strangle you from within. Whatever this feeling was, love had no part of it...’

Twenty minutes...

“What do you suppose is holding her up? She cannot have that many clothes to pack?”

His little toad of a cousin had the audacity to speak to him after what he had done but he would not show him that he cared because he simply did not.

“Why, eager to bed her again?”

“I would not say again but I am eager to sample the goods. She is utterly ruined now so one more or one less does not matter.”

“I thought... Never mind, I will get her myself and haul her by her hair if she resists.”

“Mayhap she is busy filling her bags with items not her own...”

Mr Darcy hastened his strides and took the stairs two steps at the time. At her door, he hesitated for a moment before ripping it open.   
The room was seemingly empty at first glance but the casket with the jewellery sat atop of her vanity arrested his attention. It was the first place to investigate her proclivities. He yanked open the lid, the casket was full. He could not be certain that no item was missing but it seemed to be largely intact.

Her dressing room was next on his agenda. He stepped over the threshold and scrutinized the content. It looked untouched to him but yet again, he could not be certain. He turned and strode out of the room and addressed the nearest footman.

“Has Mrs Darcy been to her chamber?”

Uttering her name left a foul taste in his mouth. She was no Mrs Darcy, his mother was. None could usurp her place. After this debacle, none ever would. He was shackled for life to the trollop with no heirs to carry his name into the future.

“Yes, Mr Darcy. Mrs Darcy entered her chamber some twenty minutes ago, she has not left, sir.”

“Why is she not there then?”

“She must be, Sir. There are plenty of witnesses, Sir. She has not left.”

“Hannah!” Mr Darcy bellowed.

Mrs Darcy's lady’s maid came running as fast as her legs could carry her. 

“Come,” Mr Darcy barked. Hannah followed him into the mistress chamber. He wrenched open the connecting door to the master's chamber and looked inside. It was empty, he shut the door and pointed at the mistress’s bed. 

“Look under the bed,” Mr Darcy commanded. Hannah obediently bent down and looked.

“What am I looking for, Mr Darcy?”

“Mrs Darcy.”

“She is not here, Sir.”

“Right, come out and follow me.”

The dressing room was next.

“She is not here either, Sir.”

“I know, could you tell me if any of her garments are missing?”

Hannah rummaged through the articles of clothing.

“Yes, Sir. All the old garments she brought from home are missing while all her new and fashionable gowns are still here, Sir. Perhaps she has collected the items she meant to leave to the rag and bone man, Sir.”

“I very much doubt it...”

Mr Darcy stood indecisive in the middle of the room, scratching his head. He felt the urge to act and strode once more into his own chamber and did a thorough search for his wayward wife. She was not there...

Of course, the servant corridors... Mr Darcy walked briskly through the narrow passages. He had familiarized himself with them through his childhood, playing hide and seek with his abominable cousin. He knew the shortest and easiest way out and soon found himself outside in the bitterly cold December night. He paused on the thread and looked around, searching for distant movement. There was no sign of Mrs Darcy but plenty of footsteps in every direction. He opted for the most plausible one, leading towards the front of the house. He very much doubted she was silly enough to venture out into the unfamiliar woods. Rounding the corner he walked to the portico and proceeded up the stairs to get a better overview. She was nowhere to be seen but she had nearly a half-hour headway.   
He could send out a few men and his dogs but that would defeat the purpose. She was gone, exactly like he had ordered. Finally, she had done as requested without any discussion. In his mind, it was about time. Never again would his decisions be called into questioning, disputed and reasoned against. What a relief.

Mr Darcy re-entered by the front door, called for a footman to have the Colonel’s horse saddled and went straight to the library where his cousin no longer waited.

“Richard Fitzwilliam!” Mr Darcy shouted. He would not honour him with a title.

Richard came running down the stairs.

“Where is Elizabeth?”

“Gone and so will you be. Your horse is being saddled as we speak.”

“Gone, what do you mean by gone? She cannot have ventured out in the cold by herself?”

“Obviously, she could and she has.”

Mr Darcy was done. He grabbed his cousin by his arm and dragged him out the door. A footman handed him his greatcoat as he passed him. Darcy let go of his arm as soon as he was outside.

“I will have your things packed and sent to Matlock in the morning.”

The door closed and the bolt was drawn. 

The Colonel shrugged into his coat and headed for the stables. He would surely catch up with Elizabeth on his way to Lambton where they would spend the night at the Rose and Crown.

~***~

Mr Darcy ordered a thorough house search, just to be on the safe side. It would not do for him to suddenly encounter the hoyden in an unused room or cupboard. The last thought made him chuckle mirthlessly.

Pemberley December 2nd

Mr Darcy had barely slept, the same dream kept repeating itself over and over again. Even in his awakened state, he was not free of the image of her annoyed expression, then her countenance had looked stunned before utter horror had suffused her features. He would not think of it, he could not bear it.

An irate Darcy paced the hallways, the library had been utterly ruined for all eternity. Never would he feel any kind of ease in that room. Neither would his study bring him any relief, too many memories lingered between the walls. 

It was obvious what he needed to do. He called for a footman to find Mrs Reynolds, Georgiana and his steward. The footman looked ill at ease before he dared mention the early hours of the morning.  
Mr Darcy groaned but the footman was right. He could not haul his sister out of bed at six in the morning. He amended his order to call them in for a meeting at ten. He had plenty to do in the meantime. 

Darcy had not been to the attics in years. Treasures of times gone by was stacked high but he knew exactly what he was looking for.

If any of the servants in the nearby quarters had still been asleep, they soon were wide awake. Furniture was being dragged along the creaky floorboards and items seem to be toppling over but none went to lend a hand to the master's endeavours. 

Mr Darcy did not mind the solitude as he rummaged through the storage for furniture his late mother had cherished. Piece by piece, they had been removed by his grieving father. Claiming he could not bear to look upon them when the owner was no longer among them. The thought prompted another action he needed to make.

Mr Darcy left the attic in search of his steward. He hoped he might be available if not, someone else might do...

Ian MacGregor had anticipated his master’s needs and was awaiting him in his study.  
Mr Darcy did not approach his desk to sit as he usually did. Two days prior he had held his wife in lap while he kissed her deeply in that chair. It would have to be burnt...

“Mr MacGregor, since it is winter and little is happening in the fields, I have remembered some maintenance that must be done but firstly I have an urgent task for you. Close up the mistress suite of rooms. I want them barred, locked and impenetrable. Immediately, if you please.”

His steward eyed him warily.

“Should I not let the maids empty the room of certain personal belongings first?”

Mr Darcy waved his hand dismissively.

“No need. There is no time for it, we have much to do. Just lock it up as it is, it will not be inhabited for a few decades. The next mistress of Pemberley will have to deal with it when the day comes. Most likely it will be Georgiana and she might want to move the master and mistress suite to another part of the house by the time she inherits. No, just leave it like it is. It does not matter.”

Ian MacGregor bowed before he left to accomplish his assignment.

~***~

Pemberley went into the busiest season in its history. Georgiana was handed the task of designing a new study, a new library and redecorate several of the rooms most frequented. The only chamber left untouched by the following year of 1813 was the master's own suite of rooms. They were left untouched...

The new endeavour of renovating came with perks. Mr Darcy suddenly had a plausible excuse for declining all requests for his company, including his Matlock relations Christmas invitation, not to forget the twelfth night ball. He could not stomach the thought of encountering his cousin, he might never...

Georgiana thrived and worked tirelessly day and night. Mr Darcy prided himself that he was doing a satisfying job in preparing his sister to be mistress of a large house. She had an exceptional eye for colour and furnishings.

~***~

The first fly in the ointment came after the twelfth night ball. The cousin he could not abide came to visit. His servants had not known to bar him from entering, he had forgotten to give the order which he took upon himself to remedy.

“Darcy, you cannot throw me out of your house. Believe me, you do not want a breach with the Earldom of Matlock.”

“I have no breach with the Earl, I have the fervent wish of never encountering you again but I have no disputes with your father.”

“I am Georgiana’s guardian.”

“I will happily sign the papers where you sign her over to me or to your father.”

“That will never happen, Darcy, but I did not come here to quarrel with you. I wondered if you had heard from Elizabeth? I never found her, Darcy. No one had seen her in Lambton nor Kympton. The only spotting of a stranger was a servant girl in Rowsley, two days after... Do you know if she took her red coat?”

“No, she took nothing of the garments I had purchased, she left with her old brown coat.”

The Colonel swore under his breath.

“It might have been her then, boarding the southbound mail coach.”

Mr Darcy did not answer, he did not care either way.

“Damnation, Darcy. You could at least tell me if she reached Longbourn. I guess that was where she was heading?”

Darcy shrugged his shoulders. She was no longer his responsibility, where she went was of no importance to him.

His cousin glared at him.

“I should take responsibility for Georgiana, I am loathed to leave her to a man deprived of every feeling... It is more than four miles to Rowsley if she had the wherewithal to follow the river. Elizabeth could be lying buried in the snow on your property for all you know.”

“I doubt it, there have been wolves lurking in the area...”

The Colonel’s eyes widened, he was looking over Darcy's shoulders. Georgiana had frozen mid-step while descending the staircase. Mr Darcy put his hand over his eyes. He should have moved the conversation to his study but he no longer had one. It was under construction.

“Wait for me in the yellow parlour Georgiana, I will be with you in a moment. Colonel Fitzwilliam is leaving.”

Georgiana awoke from her stupor and ascended the stairs. She was such a dear girl. Never complain nor arguing...

He turned to his cousin and glared at him. Richard took the clue and turned to leave but he halted on the threshold.

“I am thinking of resigning my commission after this last assignment. I am leaving for Portugal in two weeks.”

“I will pray that Boney find you before your commission is out.”

The Colonel left without a backward glance. Fortunately, neither had Georgiana been within hearing range of his parting words.

~***~

Georgiana was waiting for him as instructed in the yellow parlour. Sitting primly on the edge of her seat as an accomplished lady should. Her words took him by surprise though.

“I would like to know what happened between you and Elizabeth that made you hate her so much. I hear snippets and bits but I do not understand. Please, William. I beg you to not leave me in the dark. I have to know, what caused it so that I can avoid similar treatment.”

Mr Darcy was shocked to his core. Never had he envisioned his sister to harbour such doubts about his constancy towards her. She had absolutely nothing to fear from him. It became adamant to lay her worries to rest. He searched his mind for his options but concluded that his sister could take the truth. She had once been crossed in love. She should know that women could be as depraved as men.

He related the awful night as best as he could, leaving nothing out. Not even his feelings, nor theirs.

Georgiana looked thoughtful when he had finished. He waited for several minutes for her to comment. When she did, it was not what he would have expected.

“She looked annoyed, then surprised but did not look horrified until she turned and saw cousin Richard. Do you think she could have spoken the truth? That she thought it was you that was embracing her.”

“We are not of the same stature Georgiana, would you not think she would have felt the difference in our heights or the size of our hands?  
Besides, Richard made himself known to her as soon as she entered the library...”

Georgiana nodded, he left her to her thoughts. He realised it was a difficult subject for his sister. Georgiana had formed an immediate bond with the hussy at their first meeting. What would he not have forsaken to have that impetuous deed undone...


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Elizabeth had not been long in her quaint little cottage of two rooms before she realised that she would need to learn a lot more than cooking to fend for herself. Not much cooking could be done without firewood, nor water... Her home had a small parcel of land, no woods but a well had been dug by a previous owner.

She would have to walk to the village and inquire if she would be allowed to gather dry wood in the forest surrounding her cottage. The problem was that she had no idea who owned it. She set out the next morning and found a small store that had everything you needed except for the meat that she would have to buy directly from one of the farms. Her father and uncle had managed to find a rural, godforsaken place to hide her disgraceful self... 

She had not dyed her clothes black, she could not afford to buy new ones when her fraudulent mourning period supposedly would have ended. She settled her mind upon a missing husband, it was not a lie except that she knew where to find him, he was still missing from her life. It was the story she told the people who asked. Her wedding band was still lodged on her finger, unwilling to budge. Everyone who saw it would know that she was married. 

What she had not anticipated was the looks of pity she received from claiming her husband missing. They all seem to jump to the conclusion that he was a soldier. A misconception she chose not to contradict. 

~***~

Elizabeth rarely received any letters and she sent one even less. Postage was expensive.   
Her father had asked her not to send any letters directly to Longbourn. The post house was ruled by Meryton’s most efficient gossip. Letters arriving in Elizabeth’s handwriting from the wrong part of the country would raise suspicion. Elizabeth included letters to her father and sisters inside her aunt Gardiner's letter. Usually, only Jane with a PS of consent to read it out loud to her mother and other sisters. The letters were vague, evasive but truthful. She divulged as little as possible about herself but deliberately made it look like the estate and household matters were taking up much of her time which could not have been more true, just not in the way it was perceived. 

~***~

Elizabeth counted herself lucky, the owner of the woods let her gather what she needed. She had little to offer as payment but the owner had a daughter. With no mother to teach her, she was hired to do her hair for special occasions and teach her to play the pianoforte in exchange for the wood. It was an advantageous arrangement for both. There were not many sources of entertainment in their small community but sometimes Elizabeth was invited to stay for tea which saved her the cost of a meal.

~***~

By spring it dawned on her that she would need to hire a maid. At least for a certain period in the late summer. The planting had been gruelling work for someone not used to labour. She was glad that she had spent most mornings out of doors or she might not have managed.  
The pay she could spare was so meagre that she hesitated to even ask.

She still felt gratitude towards her father who had given her the seeds to grow her own food. With spring in the air, she had bought three chickens, adding eggs to her all bread and porridge diet until the produce she had sown was ready to harvest. Just the thought made her mouth water.  
She had tapped several birch trees of their sap and meticulously boiled it down to a sweet syrup. It burned very easily, she had guard it vigilantly but she had managed to produce a couple of jars worth of the sweet liquid. If only she could have spared a few shillings on tea... There was no use crying over spilt milk though, the porridge tasted a lot better with a little sweetness added.

Netherfield, April 1813

“The Darcys are in town, Caroline saw them at Madame Clarissa yesterday. Perhaps we should go when you are feeling a little better, dear?”

“Yes, I would love to see Lizzy again. I thought I would savour our blissful news until I could see her countenance when I tell her...  
It must have been a journey on the spur of the moment though because Lizzy did not mention it in her last letter. I hope it is not another emergency trip like before Christmas.”

“I doubt it, Darcy has been cheerful in his last letters. It seems like your sister has upended the entire house with refurbishing. Even his study has moved location. He seems very happy about the changes though. Marriage must be agreeing with him...”


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

London, June 1813

“Darcy! I thought it was your ramrod straight back I saw exiting Hatchard’s.”

Mr Darcy slowed his paces but hesitated to turn to face his pursuer. He had hoped he could have avoided the meeting altogether. He had believed Mr Bingley was not in town with his wife indisposed due to her delicate condition. He was wrong.

Mr Darcy turned and met him halfway. It took Mr Bingley all he could muster not to gasp at his gaunt-looking features. The man was obviously ill which would explain a hasty trip to London and Elizabeth’s vague letters. They were trying to conceal his friend’s ailment. Why they would choose to hide the fact, quite escaped him. Jane would know but Jane was not here.

“A pleasure to see you, Darcy. I was wondering if you would ever leave Pemberley after you had secured yourself a wife and no longer needed to attend events in town. Are you by chance going to Princess Lieven’s at home tonight?”

“Yes.” 

Marriage had not made Mr Darcy any more loquacious.

“Splendid, Jane is looking forward to seeing her sister. Oh, there she is, looking ready to depart. We will see you this evening, Darcy.”

Darcy followed his friends gaze, bowed to Jane who had just exited the Haberdasher. Her husband sprinting towards her to guide her over puddles and business cards left by the horses.  
That kind of exuberant solicitousness had been his prerogative for a short couple of months.   
The pang in his chest grew and he involuntarily clutched his chest before he continued on his mission to collect his sister. Annoyed, stunned, horrified.  
It was damn inconvenient that Bingley was invited to Princess Lieven, he had not expected him to be welcome in the highest circle.

~***~

Mr Darcy was unusually tense when he entered Princess Lieven's at home with his sister on his arm.  
It was a throng of people, hopefully, he would not encounter Mr Bingley. Luckily, he would not be expected to dance.

They had been there for the required two hours and were on their way out when he happened upon Mr Bingley. Had he not been a gentleman, he would have cursed his stroke of misfortune. To make matters worse, Mrs Bingley was attached to Mr Bingley's arm. Why she was a greater hardship to meet than her husband, he chose not to ponder.

Mrs Bingley was on her toes, trying to gauge if he hid someone behind him. He was not, it was only him and his sister. Just like he preferred it.

“Is my sister not with you this evening?”  
Jane inquired.

“No, she is at Longbourn,” Mr Darcy replied.

“Oh, we must just have missed her then. A shame, I was so looking forward to seeing her.”

Mr Darcy forced his facial muscles to contract into something that reminded of a smile, bowed and escorted his sister out into their awaiting carriage.

“Why would Jane say: We just missed her?” Georgiana mused out loud.

“I do not know. She can come and go as she pleases, wherever she is at...”

Darcy thought that would be the end of it but he should have known his sister better.

“It seemed like she thought Elizabeth was with us?”

“Perhaps she leaves Longbourn on occasions to make the appearance that she is still attached to the Darcy family. I do not keep tabs on her, she is free to do whatever she pleases.”

‘Why would he feel this pain in his chest so severely by the thought of her travelling the country to visit her friends and family? He would conquer this, he had to for his own sanity. If only Georgiana would cut short her season...’

~***~

Two days later, the knocker was banging on his door. For a minute he worried it might be Colonel Fitzwilliam. None other than him had the guts to hit it with such force...  
His surprise was immense when it was Mr Bingley that was shown into his study, slamming his fist in his desk, hovering over him with daggers shooting from his eyes.

“Where the hell is Elizabeth?” He bellowed right into his face.

Darcy sat back, not because he was intimidated but Mr Bingley had just spat on his face. Not on purpose but it did not make the experience it any more pleasant.

“I do not know.”

“You do not know where your own wife is?” Mr Bingley did nothing to hide his incredulous expression.

“I have no wife,” he replied calmly.

“She is dead?”

Mr Darcy shook his head, “not that I know of...”

Mr Bingley sat down in sheer bafflement although Mr Darcy had not offered him a seat.

“Please explain in plain words how you could not know of your wife's whereabouts?”

“Simply because she is no longer my wife. She left Pemberley on the first, no second of December by my orders. I have not seen or heard from her since which is also by my orders.”

“What could she possibly have done to displease you so?” 

Mr Darcy let out a harsh laugh.

“You would not like to know.”

Bingley rose and paced back and forth in front of his desk. His hand running through his hair making it stand on end. He slumped back into his chair with a dejected sigh.

“But where can she be? She left Longbourn before Christmas. I thought she went to you in London. Oh my lord, where can she be? If she left in December... She is not with her Phillips nor her Gardiner relations... As far as I know, they have no other kin in any part of the country except for Mr Collins. She could not possibly be there, too close to the formidable Lady Catherine and Mr Collins would never deign to do anything that might displease his patroness. I wonder how you can live with yourself.”

Darcy chose not to deign the retrospective question with an answer.  
Mr Bingley sent him his last glare before he rose up from his perched position and strode out of his office. He did not hear Mr Darcy mutter that he lived very well without any knowledge of his wife's location.

~***~

The news Mr Bingley brought home created a torrent of tears from his wife. Intent on getting to the bottom of this conundrum, Mr Bingley rode to Longbourn the next morning. Demanding answers from Mr Bennet who surely must know.

Mr Bennet did know. The story brought him no peace though and Mr Bingley rode hard back to his wife in London. He arrived late in the afternoon, completely knackered. Mrs Bingley reacted as strongly as he feared, refusing to believe her sister had acted so despicably. It was only one thing to do...  
The Gardiners knew where Elizabeth was currently living. Although they had never been there, they were sending the letters Jane added to her father’s notes.

With the aid of the Gardiners, the Bingleys set out for the village of Little Kings Hill. Thirty-three miles from London, twenty-three miles from Meryton. She was so close, yet no one had visited her for the last six months, not even her father.   
Even more concerning was the amount Mr Bennet had afforded his favourite daughter, seventy pounds was not much to live on for a gentleman’s daughter. His sister had gowns that cost more than Elizabeth had at her disposal for an entire year. The Bingleys were appalled, shaken and on their way to rescue their sister.

~***~

Elizabeth was on her knees, weeding her vegetable garden when the Bingleys approached. They had to walk the last half of a mile since Elizabeth’s little cottage was not accessible by carriage. It was left with their driver by the side of the road while Mr and Mrs Bingley set out on foot.  
Elizabeth was so immersed in her task that she did not notice their soft footsteps on the grassy path. She was humming softly to an old Scottish folk song, wearing a thin summer gown with her hair hanging down her back. Ever so often her hand came up to brush away wayward locks from her countenance. Jane wanted to run to her sister but Mr Bingley staid her with a comforting hand on her arm. She was about to call out to her but her name stuck in her throat when Elizabeth rose from the ground with difficulty. The reason became obvious when she turned towards them. Ignoring the dirty hem, Elizabeth's gown was an ill-fitted, redone gown she had worn at Longbourn.

Elizabeth’s hands flew to her chest while sheer horror suffused her countenance. Wide-eyed, her gaze flickered around them. She rose on her toes to see past them. When she did not find what she was searching for, she let her hands fall down her sides, schooled her features and walked calmly towards her visitors.

“Jane,” she whispered, uncertainty made her voice quiver.

Jane freed herself from Mr Bingley's loose hold on her arm and flew towards her sister who opened her arms in welcome. The sisters embraced and stood swaying from side to side with tears running down their cheeks. 

“I have missed you so much, Jane, but please tell me. Have you come alone?”

“No, our coachman and a footman are standing guard by the carriage.”

“No one else?”

“No, you need not fear we brought your husband. He is a fool for believing his cousin over his wife but I do not believe he is an evil man.”

“Neither do I but do you not see? If the babe is a boy, he will most certainly take him away from me. He needs an heir for Pemberley’s sake and he cannot beget another for as long as I live. I cannot allow him to take him while I pray for a girl. You must promise me to never tell. Please, please, please...”

Elizabeth was working herself into a fit equal to her mother’s. Mr Bingley jumped into the conversation.

“You have nothing to fear from us, Elizabeth.”

“Mr Bingley and I would never allow it,” Jane said with conviction. “A man that does not even know where his own wife is residing, cannot be responsible for a child,” she finished.

Elizabeth chuckled lightly.

“That is the most unforgiving speech I have ever heard coming from your mouth. It even beat the pernicious sisters’ remark.  
Please! Come inside and let me wash the dirt off my hands. Oh dear, I have left dirty hand marks on your beautiful muslin gown. We will have to let it dry before attempting to brush it off. Any efforts at this point will surely just smear it out.”

Elizabeth’s tiny cottage was cramped with only three people inside. She ushered them to the table and offered them her two chairs while she put the kettle in the hearth. She pulled out the last few leaves of tea her aunt had gifted her from the caddy. Relieved that she had saved, at least, some of the valuable leaves for an occasion such as this. She washed her hands thoroughly and set the cups on the table.

“I am sorry but I do not have any sugar... I have made some Birch syrup though, it is just as delicious if you ask me.”

Bingley felt dreadful, drinking what obviously had been Elizabeth’s last tea leaves with a syrup she had made from a tree. Not that it did not taste good but the thought of having a sister, even one by marriage, that could not afford tea nor sugar made his stomach churn and bile rise in his throat.

“You must come home with us, Mrs Darcy. Oh, is that still your name?”

“It is and no, I cannot.”

“You kept your name,” Jane asked incredulously.

“It is my name, the only thing I have kept from my marriage. No one here has ever heard of Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire. My neighbours are simple people, farmers, workers and tradesmen. None frequent higher society. It is a perfectly safe place for me. I have made some friends and I am quite content.”

“But you cannot be alone for your lying in.” Jane looked aghast at her sister.

“I will not be alone. I have spoken to the vicar in Little Kings Hill church and he knows of an orphaned girl who needs a position from mid-July. It is already settled. She will be here within a month.”

“How old is the girl,” Jane inquired suspiciously.

“Fourteen,” Elizabeth replied before she busied herself with tidying up after her tea.

Mr Bingley scrutinised the room he was in. Nothing was hidden because there were no drawers. Everything she owned was displayed on a couple of shelves.   
Elizabeth had flour, some bread and eggs. That was all the nutrition to be had.

“Will you at least come with us to the Full Moon Inn. We can have supper and you can sleep one night without worrying about tending the fire.”

“I appreciated your offer, Mr Bingley but I cannot. What if someone who knows me or Mr Darcy is at the Inn? I dare not risk it. Not for a meal, nor a bed. I have both here without the risk of losing my child.”

Mr Bingley seemed deep in thought but he did not push her any further.

“Can you tell me exactly what happened on the night of your quarrel with Mr Darcy?” Jane begged her sister.

Elizabeth nodded and related the sordid tale for the third time, leaving nothing out.

“What do you think the Colonel was about, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth could have cried had she had any tears left. Neither her father, aunt nor uncle had questioned Colonel Fitzwilliams behaviour. It was always her conduct they had disputed.

“He accused me of flirting with him at Rosings but Mr Darcy believed I flirted with him in Meryton when I heartily disliked him. I wonder if all men assume any lady that deigns to talk to him as flirts?”

Jane smiled at her sister. “Not my Mr Bingley. He believed I was indifferent when I was flirting as much as I dared.”

Elizabeth reached for Jane’s hand and squeezed it gently.

“You have been exceptionally fortunate in your choice of husband, Jane. In fact, I doubt there is another lady in all of England who is quite as fortunate nor as deserving.”

Mr Bingley blushed becomingly at Elizabeth’s praise, endearing him further to her. He was a good and a modest man, as Mr Darcy had pronounced him, a long time ago.

“I cannot help but think that he must have had an ulterior motive. I have no idea what but when I look back at our interactions, I do not believe he did anything without a reason. You see, when I was at Rosings. I happened upon him on one of my walks about the estate. He offered to escort me back to the parsonage and I accepted. He spoke about his need, as an impoverished second son, to marry for money.” The sarcasm dripping from Elizabeth’s voice was unmistakable but neither chose to interrupt her. 

“I laughed it off with a jest about the price for a second son. It was awkward at best that he should mention this to me as I had any designs on him! A ludicrous thought, it is not like I want to marry every male I talk to...   
We had three or four conversations in the company of those who were either not speaking at all or speaking too much. But I digress, after this awkward moment. He suddenly began to praise his cousin, minutes before he had complained about being at his disposal and Mr Darcy's mercuric moods, changing the date of their departure at a whim which is why I was bewildered by his endorsement. I mentioned that Mr Darcy should marry to have someone else at his disposal, Miss Darcy was briefly mentioned before he brought up you, Mr Bingley, to my attention.   
He told me the tale of how his cousin had saved a friend from a misalliance but he should not have spoken of it to me. Like Mr Wickham, he was confessing confidential matters to a stranger. He even mentioned that it would be unpleasant if words of it should reach the lady's family which contradicted his purpose if they were benign. He knew that Mr Darcy had been with Mr Bingley in the late summer and autumn but he also knew where they had been. He knew I had four sisters. He knew my oldest sister was currently in town, suffering a disappointment. Do not worry, Jane, nothing specific was ever mentioned but I distinctly remember Charlotte asking me if your spirits were improved, one day the cousins came to visit the parsonage.”

Elizabeth drew breath and gazed out of her tiny window. The Bingleys sensed there was more to come and kept quiet as not to disturb her line of thoughts.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam brought Georgiana home to Pemberley after our month of solitude.” She could not bring herself to call it a honeymoon. She did not want her thoughts to stray in that direction at all. The memories were still too raw to bear contemplating. “When they arrived, The Colonel embraced me. I did not like it. You know of my dislike of overfamiliar touches upon my person, Jane. I let my displeasure show and both the Colonel Mr Darcy seemed perturbed by my reluctance but it is simply not done. A gentleman does not hug a lady in company and not without company unless he bears the relationship of father, brother or husband.   
Our acquaintance had been brief, a few conversations, months past and he was now a cousin. Imagine Mr Collins embracing each and every one of us, when we met?” 

Elizabeth shuddered but so did Jane and Mr Bingley.

“There can be no dispute in this, Elizabeth. The Colonel behaved inappropriately but what could be the meaning of this, what could be his intent?”

“I do not know, Jane. It is all unfathomable to me. Why would he risk estranging himself from his cousin? Have you heard any rumours in London?” Elizabeth could not bring herself to ask if they had spoken to Mr Darcy.

“I have heard nothing but it is not so strange because the Colonel was sent on an assignment in Portugal of which he has not returned from.” 

The Bingleys soon left for the Full Moon Inn. Leaving Elizabeth with the promise of returning the next day.

Mr and Mrs Bingley spared no time at the Inn before making inquiries and hiring a midwife. The next morning took them on a bout of shopping before they visited Elizabeth bearing loads of gifts.  
The Bingleys brought edibles, candles, fabric and tea. Elizabeth could do nothing but accept, her sister would not let her. 

Parting midday was difficult but promises were made for copious letters to be written. Mr Bingley left a substantial amount of coins for postage and emergencies which Elizabeth reluctantly accepted and hid. Mr Bingley brooked no opposition, in this he was firm. As was his promises to bring Elizabeth with them as soon as Mary's and Kitty's courtships had reached their desired conclusion. Elizabeth could not but chose not to dispute his assertions at this point because he even suggested terminating the lease on Netherfield and move to another part of the country. Elizabeth could not be the cause of uprooting her sister from everything she had known. She kept her own counsel and postponed that particular argument for a later date.

As it turned out, the Bingleys did not limit themselves to sending letters but gifts began turning up in the post as well...


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

London, August 1813

Mr Darcy was strolling leisurely down Bond Street. He was waiting for his sister to finish her last items of shopping before they would venture North for Pemberley, two days hence.  
The season had taken his toll on him. He had escorted his sister to numerous balls, plays, concerts, dinners and at homes. Georgiana seemed much more pleased than him at attending the aforementioned events. Not that he had much to complain about. The matchmaking mamas no longer accosted him on his own behalf but they did approach him about his sister. It was fortunate that he possessed such an intimidating scowl that few of the young bucks dared approach them. (My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.)   
Darcy shook his head, chasing the memory from his mind but the image of her dark teasing eyes stubbornly rested at the edge of his mind. He soon had another reason to curse his inattentiveness. Mr and Mrs Bingley were walking towards him. The street was deserted in the midday heat, there was no chance they had not seen him while they chatted amicably between themselves. There was no escaping the tedious questions, certain to follow. Darcy sighed, he was less than ten steps away, too late for retreat. 

Mrs Bingley looked up and caught his eyes. The bright summer sun must have caught in her eyes because they narrowed significantly. Then she did the unthinkable thing.  
She turned the other way and grabbed Mr Bingley to follow her lead, he acquiesced. 

Mrs Bingley had just given him the cut direct, on the open street of the most fashionable part of London. It was social suicide, no one would side with the wife of the son of a tradesman over the illustrious connection of the Darcy heritage. Not many had noticed though. He looked around to see if any of his acquaintance were nearby while he absentmindedly caught Mrs Bingley's excuses to her husband. “I am sorry I cut your friend, Charles, but you know I cannot lie... It was the only option I could think of with so short of a notice.” Mr Bingley patted the hand that was resting on his arm. “Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. That man is no friend of mine. By him, I was most grievously deceived.”

Mr Darcy froze. Annoyed, stunned, horrified. An image flashed in front of his inner eye. He quelled it almost immediately these days and hardly ever dreamt about her. Mrs Bingley had no reason to lie. Her opinion of him did not matter. Her deceitful sister's opinion mattered even less. The easily persuaded Mr Bingley was obviously under the thumb of his wife. Jane may look like an angel but underneath her cherubic exterior lurked the soul of Delilah. She would be the destruction of his former friend, he was absolutely certain of it.

With a newfound determination, Mr Darcy turned toward the modiste his sister and aunt were at. It was time to head home. Construction and decorating awaited with the promise of a good harvest come autumn. He had no cause to repine. Annoyed, stunned, horrified. He loathed doubt...

~***~

Easter, 1814

The Colonel had returned to British soil in January of 1814. Mr Darcy and Georgiana had still some finishing touches left to do at Pemberley, mainly adding the books to the new library. An intricate system made it a difficult chore but the end result would make it worth it.   
The siblings did not enter the season until after their Easter visit at Rosings. To Darcy's constipation, Colonel Fitzwilliam had also been invited. While his aunt badgered him for an annulment of his marriage, the Colonel had been unusually quiet on the matter. He himself hardly bothered to answer her rants. As loathed as he felt towards dragging his personal affairs through the London court, he was also painfully aware that he had no case. At least none that would lead to an annulment. He could have dragged his caddish cousin to court and sued him for engaging in a criminal conversation but that would not benefit his sister on the marriage mart. Not that he was in a hurry to get rid of her, quite the contrary. But when the day came, he wanted her to wed someone worthy of her. Not some fortune-hunting rake but an outstanding member of society, preferably with a title to boast.  
Georgiana could see the deep regret with which the Colonel regarded her brother. Fitzwilliam did not seem to notice but she did. Perhaps Elizabeth had really been one of the alluring ladies that turned gentlemen to libertines and made them lose their reason. There were plenty of examples in the literary world, there were even some in London's highest society... Mayhap she had turned both their heads on purpose to tear them apart. Georgiana stifled a gasp that threatened to burst out. She directed a compassionate gaze towards her cousin, he answered her with the ghost of a smile.  
~***~  
August 1814

Georgiana's second season was going exceptionally well. The end was nearing without a serious suitor in sight. There had been some that had been eager to engage her to dance at the balls, some had even dared call the next day but none had formed any serious designs on her. They would soon head back to the sanctuary of Pemberley.   
Mr Darcy silently wondered what they would embark on next with all the renovations done...  
One obligation remained before they could retreat and it was one he particularly dreaded. Supper at Matlock House. One never knew if it would be an intimate family dinner or an elaborate affair with a hundred or more guests. At the moment, he would not decide which he dreaded the most...

It turned out to be an intimate family dinner. Unfortunately, the Colonel was also present...  
The Earl of Matlock wasted little time to attack when the ladies left the table at the end of the meal.

“Georgiana must marry, Darcy!”

“I am well aware of that, uncle Matlock.”

“Are you? It seems like you are tarrying the inevitable by scowling and glaring at any eligible bachelor daring to approach your sister. That is not the way to gain a respectable suitor. Georgiana needs to marry, Darcy. What will become of Pemberley if you let it fall into the hands of your profligate Darcy cousin? How long will it take him to destroy the work of generations, centuries even?”

Darcy knew he was right. His only surviving Darcy cousin was his cousin a few times removed with a reputation that exceeded Mr Wickhams by a tenfold.

“I know, uncle. Hopefully, she will have more success next season...”

“See to that she does, Darcy. Give her some room to explore and get to know the young men that strive for her attention. In plain words, back off. She cannot always be at Pemberley because you sent away your wife.”

Mr Darcy glared at his cousin. Lord Matlock misinterpreted his meaning.

“Rest assured, Darcy. My son has not divulged your secrets to me, he is an honourable man although I have long suspected that he knows the sordid details of your downfall.”

Darcy could not but appreciate the Colonel’s tight lips although it was centred in self-interest. He had no wish to be the cuckolded fool of the family who had been adamant in their warnings against him marrying so far beneath his station.  
Somewhat dejected, he ventured home to Pemberley. Perhaps it was the last time he had the comfortable company of his sister to ease the burden of travelling. Next year he might head back to for a life of unending solitude. Annoyed, Stunned, horrified. Would the memories never seize to haunt him?

London, summer 1815

Mr Darcy had tarried even longer this year before travelling to town. He had dodged the Easter visit to aunt Catherine, claiming estate matters kept him at home. Dreading a repeat of the previous year with Colonel Fitzwilliam's undesirable presence. They had entered town in May to a mountain of invitations...  
First and foremost, the Matlocks were holding a ball in Georgiana's honour, they could not refuse the honour shown by their own relations. They had begged for three years that they would be allowed to hold one.

~***~

Georgiana was dressed to the nines when they entered the receiving line, as was expected when the event was held in her honour. Fortunately, none ever asked after his wife anymore. Guessing he was too ashamed of the country nobody to bring her to town. Nobody had been invited to Pemberley either.

The rush of guests finally trickled into a few late arrivals. The Darcy followed the Matlocks into the ballroom. Lord Matlock proceeded to the middle of the ballroom's dancefloor. The rest automatically followed in his trail.   
With the Matlocks and Darcys in the middle of the guests, Lord Matlock called the attention of the crowd. The room quieted down, all eyes were on Lord Matlock.  
Darcy had expected his uncle to hold some kind of plenary speech but he had thought he would wait until supper...

“Dear Lord and Ladies, friends and family, we are gathered here today in the honour of my niece, Georgiana Darcy. To celebrate her betrothal to my son, Colonel Fitzwilliam. May I be the first to offer them my sincerest congratulations.”

The room erupted in cheers and wishes of joy and happiness. Darcy looked at his sister who was swamped with tittering ladies. He caught a glimpse of her eyes. She must have known... She looked guilty.

‘Had living with him become such a chore that she would shackle herself to his debauched cousin? He could not fathom the turn of events, except for the culprit obviously being his uncle. Betrayed by a Fitzwilliam for the second time... He loathed his own name. Never would he saddle a son with giving him a surname as his Christian name. Not that he would ever have a son of his own. Instead, it would be Colonel Fitzwilliam’s son who would inherit his life's work...’

Darcy felt sick, it must have shown. Lady Matlock approach him and steered him out of the ballroom to Lord Matlock's study. She filled a tumbler with a generous amount of brandy and thrust it into his hand. He downed the amber liquid in one large gull and felt familiar burn travel down his throat.

“What is the meaning of this. You were the last person, I would have expected to cause a scene. I am sorely disappointed in you.” Lord Matlock had followed them to the study. The Colonel soon followed.

“I am sorry to spring this upon you in this manner, Darcy, but something had to be done with the way you were thwarting your sister’s prospect. In this way, we have secured both Darcy and Fitzwilliam blood at Pemberley for the next generation. May I remind you are not the owner of an estate, you are the holder for generations to come...”

Darcy felt the injustice in his uncle’s accusations, rage seethed in his veins, impossible to quell. What had his sister been thinking?

“I need to speak to Georgiana.”

“What, now? The ball has commenced.”

“Yes, now... I will not enter your ballroom until I have spoken with my sister, alone...”

The Matlock's filed out of the study, only Lady Matlock returned with a contrite Georgiana. Lady Matlock returned to her guests while Georgiana continued to study the pattern on the floor. Darcy waited patiently for his sister to explain herself but she offered nothing.  
Darcy sighed, he would haul it out of her, the truth of the matter. He was not sacrificing his sister, the scandal would not matter much.

“Please tell me you were not coerced into accepting your cousin.”

Georgiana's head snapped up.

“Of course not. Can you not be happy for me?”

Mr Darcy searched his sister's eyes, they wore a defiant expression.

“I...” What could he say that would change her mind...

“I know he wronged you, brother, but are we not better off without her? Was it not best to know before you had been married along time? You could have had an heir you could not have been certain was even yours. Born within wedlock, you would have had no means to disinherit him. I do not commend Richards method. It could have been handled differently but the outcome would not change... It is time to move on, brother. I love Richard, he is safe and I have no fear he would not treat me well. He is hurt, brother. He wants the two of you to have the relationship you once had, you were like brothers...”

“He knew I was on my way to the library, we had agreed to meet there.”

“Exactly, he knew you were coming. It only proves that he had no intention of going through with the seduction. He just wanted you to open your eyes.”

“He could have spoken to me...”

“Would you have believed him? You were so in love with Elizabeth. Nothing else mattered. It was the only way he could break the spell you were under.” 

Several minutes of quietude was broken when Georgiana rose from her seat and offered him her hand.

“Come, brother. Dance with me.”

“I thought only gentlemen were allowed to ask.”

“Humour me this once, William. I promise to never repeat it.”

Darcy followed his sister, waited patiently for the next set to begin and danced. His heart was not in it though. His uncle had been right, the union would hopefully provide a child that could inherit Pemberley. He needed closure, tired of the hollered emptiness he carried inside.   
He missed his closest friend, his sister was desperate to get away from him. It would not do...  
He had one conclusive task to perform. Why, he had no idea but the need was overwhelming.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It was not difficult to get hold of her location. A few coins and a couple of talkative servants and the quaint cottage in Little Kings Hill was soon revealed to him. The real challenge did not begin before he decided to approach her. Hopefully, he would be able to observe from a distance he told himself when he tied off his horse in a nearby tree and continued on foot. 

The cottage was tiny, smaller than any of his tenants’ homes at Pemberley. Although he might own a widow residence of a similar size.  
It was quiet, Elizabeth must be inside or away on an errand of some sort. He had almost decided to approach when a peal of girlish laughter wafted through the woods. It did not sound like Elizabeth and true enough. A girl, a few years younger appeared on the arm of what he thought must be her father. She released his arm and skipped towards the entrance. Elizabeth opened the door and let the girl inside while the man, a farmer by the looks of it, remained outside. He walked to the chopping block, removed his coat, rolled up his shirt-sleeves and grabbed the axe. He chopped up the logs at hand into smaller pieces and stacked them outside the door.

A half an hour passed before Elizabeth reappeared with the girl. The girl's hair had been done up in an elaborate hairstyle. The girl curtsied to Elizabeth, Elizabeth curtsied back and the two left the same way they had come. Elizabeth stood gazing after them before she turned abruptly and disappeared into the cottage.

Darcy's courage had left him. Elizabeth had made friends, perhaps even more than friends. He momentarily forgot they were still married. She fended for herself in utter poverty. The cottage had one, perhaps two rooms. She could obviously not afford coal, the field had been planted though. Could she subsist on doing young girls hair? 

Darcy retreated stealthily the way he had come. He had wanted to rant and rave at her, one last time. Her departure had been abrupt by his own doing but he had thought of a thousand things that had been left unsaid.  
~***~  
Darcy was pacing London study when the door opened and his uncle was shown in.

“The knocker is not up.”

“We need to discuss wedding arrangements.”

“Do I have anything to say in the matter?”

“Do not play the victim, Darcy. It does not become you. Your sister has made her choice, she could have done much worse or do I need to remind you of Mr Wickham?”

Mr Darcy remained silent, his uncle regarded it as consent.

“Good, are you planning to remove to Pemberley soon?”

“No, not yet.”

“You have reconciled with the turn of events?”

Darcy did not answer.

“Well, I will be off then. Let me know when you want Georgiana to return to you.”

Darcy made no reply. Lord Matlock left him to his thought with a sigh as his parting word.   
~***~  
A week later, his resolve weakened. He had not accomplished what he had hoped. Elizabeth lived in poverty but neither her countenance nor her bearing spoke of misery. If anything, she seemed content and he was left with more questions than answers.

The next morning, he rode out early, heading towards Little Kings Hill.  
He approached stealthily as before, making sure he was hidden by the trees and the undergrowth. The cottage was quiet, he wondered if Elizabeth was not at home when he spotted her in the vegetable patch. Her hair was tumbling freely down her back, her tresses were much longer than he remembered. At Pemberley, it had reached the middle of her back but it was now down to her waist. She was digging up some early potatoes before she removed to collect a few carrots. She was barefooted, perhaps she could not afford shoes... The thought was strangely unpleasant.  
She put the carrots in a basket and moved further down the field to pick something else. Her form was now obstructed by shrubbery, he could not see what she was doing. She stood up abruptly. He immediately feared he had been detected but she did not turn in his direction. She turned towards the cottage. The door was suddenly open but he could not see anyone around. The lock must be broken, he made a note of it in his mind.

“You little scamp, have you escaped your pen?”

Darcy could not see what she was talking to but he heard chickens. They were not usually kept in a pen but she might have other animals.  
Elizabeth laughed and scolded loudly.

“You are a naughty girl, just like your mama.” 

Darcy heard a squeal as Elizabeth bent down and picked something from the ground. It sounded like a piglet but she had a bizarre way of addressing it. Perhaps her mind had been addled by living in solitude for so long.  
An old lady in Lambton had at least fifteen cats that she talked to and treated as her children...  
A ball of dark curls was in Elizabeth’s arms. Under the curly ball hung a body with arms and legs. It was the body that was encompassed in Elizabeth’s arms. Elizabeth nuzzled the child’s nose and put her back on her feet. Darcy rose on his toes to better see... He could hear Elizabeth speak but could not discern her words.   
With the basket in one hand and the toddling child’s hand in the other, Elizabeth walked into the cottage.  
The door closed, Mr Darcy was standing in full view but Elizabeth did not raise her head as the door closed. 

Mr Darcy could not move. Not once had this turn of events entered his mind. They had been married for a little over a month... How old was the child? He tried to count the months but with no exact age of the child, it was a futile endeavour. His mind riled back to the disastrous night in his library. Recounting the dialogue in his head, his cousins, Elizabeth’s, his own...  
The child could, of course, be a product of a later liaison. Elizabeth had not stayed long at Longbourn... He felt the insult of his own thoughts but Elizabeth owed him nothing after he had evicted her from his house and heart.

Mr Darcy backtracked to his horse and rode hard, back to London. He needed to think but his mind was not cooperating at the moment. His body was worn out by the time he reached Darcy House but his mind was not.

His stable hand had the audacity to glare at him as he threw him the reins of his horse. He ordered him to give the horse two days of rest but it might take him longer to recover from the gruelling ride of thirty-three miles without pause.

He went straight to his chamber and washed off the dirt and sweat. The chamber held no memories of Elizabeth, they had never stayed there, preferring to venture straight to the tranquillity of Pemberley after the wedding.

Refreshed, he continued to his study, pacing back and forth. Waving away a footman who came with a tray of refreshment. He could not eat at a time like this. Food held no interest to him anymore, had not for a long time...  
His eyes fell on his desk. An irate Bingley, slamming his fists in his desk flashed before his eyes. Of course, Mr Bingley would know. If he would receive him... 

He had not encountered Mr Bingley since his wife gave him the cut direct on Bond Street. He had seen him from afar a couple of times but had immediately changed direction to avoid any awkward confrontations. He had heard through the grapevine that Mr Bingley had become a father. A son had been born in the autumn of 1813. If it came down to it, he might be able to use Bingley's paternal sensitivities to his advantage... 

Mr Bingley had no townhouse of his own, he usually staid at Mr Hurst's house. Darcy did not know how he would be received by the Hurts, not that it mattered if Mr Bingley refused to see him. Caroline would have been of aid but she had married the heir to a baronetcy, a year past. The probability that she would be at the Hurst residence was slim but not impossible.  
~***~  
He lifted the knocker on the Hurst residence and gave it three firm raps. An elderly butler opened the door and invited him into the foyer.

“Is Mr Bingley present?” he inquired of the butler.

“A moment, Mr Darcy, I will see if he is at home.”

The butler shuffled away. Mr Darcy almost smiled, the butler had just confirmed that Mr Bingley was indeed in London or he would not have needed to check. 

A few minutes later, the butler came trudging back. 

“I am sorry, Mr Darcy, but Mr Bingley is not at home.”

The elderly butler was obviously lying by the way his eyes flickered at anything but himself.

“When will he be back?” Mr Darcy was not about to give in so easily. 

“I cannot say, Sir.”

Mr Darcy eyed the weary butler suspiciously.

“Tell Mr Bingley that I know about the child... He will want to talk to me.” Mr Darcy practically growled through gritted teeth. Mr Bingley was a coward for sending this feeble man to do his dirty work.

The butler gave up all efforts of pretence and shuttled away for the second time. Hardly a minute passed before Mr Bingley appeared in the foyer, beckoning for Darcy to follow him to a parlour at the back of the house. 

Mr Bingley went straight to the mantelpiece and took a stance that reminded him of himself. He rested an arm on the mantelpiece while rubbing his eyes with the other hand.

“What do you want, Darcy?” 

“Just some information, Bingley. If you cooperate I will be out of your way in a few minutes. It need not take long. I just want to know a few details about the child that is living with Elizabeth at the cottage in Little Kings Hill...”

Mr Bingley did not answer immediately. He stood, running his hand through his hair, absentmindedly.

“Did you know that she tapped the sap from birch trees to sweeten the tea she could not afford to buy? That she carried her own water and chopped her own wood while carrying your child? I was appalled by the conditions she was living under. More than six months passed before we knew of her whereabouts... 70 pounds a year her father and uncle had deemed sufficient for a gentile lady to manage on. My sister has gowns that cost more than that...  
I offered her sanctuary at Netherfield. She refused, do you know why?”

Mr Bingley did not leave Mr Darcy time to reply.

“She was afraid you would come and deprive her of her child. She chose living in utter poverty as opposed to the comfort Netherfield offered, to protect your daughter. How does it feel?”

“The date of birth, Bingley.”

Mr Bingley looked at him with disgust.

“August 3rd, 1813. You can leave my house now. Go back to Pemberley and forget what you have seen.”

“I cannot. The child is my heir.”

“Then leave her Pemberley in your will. You need not be involved. Sign a paper stating that you will not claim her until she becomes of age and let Elizabeth and the girl come live with us. We will see to her comfort and education.”

Mr Darcy understood that Bingley believed him deprived of any emotions with the suggestions that he made. To gainsay him might not be wise though, he doubted he could manage to change his opinion of him.

“I will consider it,” he ended the conversation with a curt nod and left Bingley to his thoughts.   
In the hallway, he was met by running footsteps and joyous squeals. A toddler came towards him with his mother hot on his heels. His run came to an abrupt halt as the boy crashed into his leg, entwined his chubby arms around his calf and looked expectantly up at him. His lower lip quivered when he discovered that it was not his father but a stranger’s leg he was clinging to. The boy courageously lifted his arms towards him. Darcy bent down and lifted the little chap up into his arms. His mother stood frozen, a few paces away, her mouth hanging open in astonishment. She collected herself admirably, her usual serene expression resurfaced.

“Charlie, come, let us find your papa.”

Mrs Bingley beckoned her child who eagerly leaned towards his mother’s outstretched arms. Darcy relinquished the child, inclined his head, continued down the hallway and continued out the door. Contemplating his next move, he had to act quickly before Bingley did something rash like moving Elizabeth and her child to the Scottish Highland...


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Miss Freight had come to learn how to make fragrances. Elizabeth had no stillroom but the kitchen nook in her main room would serve the purpose.  
Mr Freight wanted his only child to have the best education. Whomever his daughter married would ultimately inherit his farm, it was important that she attracted the best sort of man possible.

He had immediately recognised Mrs Darcy as a gently bred lady, not of the uppermost circle but finer than any of the women in their little village. He approached her, glad she had needed his aid with the firewood. They exchanged services to each other and became friends. Mrs Darcy never flirted with him as many of the women in the village were prone to do.   
She had claimed her husband was missing but the years had passed without any sign of the man. It was obvious she was living in denial. The war had ended in May the previous year, it had rightly flared up again in March but it was highly unlikely he would not have had one leave of absence for two and a half years...  
Not that he had any interest in Elizabeth should she happen to be widowed. Mr Freight had married his wife for better or for worse. Even death could not break the bond. 

“Your father is early,” Elizabeth remarked. The unmistakable sound of horse hooves pounding the dirt could be heard approaching.

“How inconsiderate of him, let us pretend we have not noticed.”

Elizabeth laughed. “That would not be very ladylike, Millicent.”

“Please, let us hurry to collect the last jasmines. It is superior to every other fragrance. It will only take a minute.”

“Let us be quick about it then.”

Elizabeth hoisted her daughter up into her arms and ran to the jasmine bush. The girl squealed then laughed heartily of her mother's antics. Millicent ran behind, huffing and puffing with a small basket for the flowers. The jasmine was sporting its last flowers of the season. They made quick work of divesting it of its last blooms and hurried back to the cottage. The rider and his horse were waiting outside the cottage. He had dismounted and stood behind his horse, searching the premises.

Millicent approached her father while Elizabeth ducked into her cottage with the flowers. 

“Who are you?” Millicent asked.

Elizabeth hurried outside but came to an abrupt halt when she had the opportunity to take a good look at the rider.

“I am Mr Darcy. I might ask you the same question...”

“Oh my! I am Millicent, Millicent Freight. Mrs Darcy is going to be so happy to see you, Sir. Having been missing for so long, she might faint.”

Millicent was of the melodramatic age. Elizabeth thought she was not far off the mark though but not for the reasons Millicent surmised.  
Mr Darcy eyes lifted over Millicent's shoulder. They did not settle on her but her daughter. Ellie squirmed under the scrutiny, tucked her thumb into her mouth and hid her face against her mother's neck.  
Elizabeth contemplated running into the cottage and bolt the door. ‘Would Mr Darcy manage to break the door? Probably... If not he could chop his way through the door with the axe, conveniently placed on the chopping block. She could not stay inside the cottage for the rest of her life anyway. Better to get it over with.’

Millicent looked expectantly between the two. The scene did not quite unfold like she would have imagined.  
The air was charged, neither made a move toward the other but their gazes were locked in a silent battle of wills.  
Into this mute conflict came Mr Freight to pick up his daughter. He noticed the stranger and the fact that Mrs Darcy did not smile.

“Father, Mr Darcy has come home.” Millicent shared triumphantly.

Mr Freight seriously doubted it. The man standing in front of him was no lowly soldier. He was a gentleman of the upper éclat’s, judging by his finely tailored suit, expensive mount and the quality of his saddle. If those items had not given him away, the polished Hessian boots left him with no doubt. Everything about the man reeked of money, a lot of money. In stark contrast to his presumed wife... 

Elizabeth thought an introduction might break the ice.

“Mr Darcy, Mr Freight, Millicent's father. Mr Freight, meet my husband, Mr Darcy.”

Mr Freight could not quite keep the surprise from showing on his countenance. How a man of means could let his wife and child live in such stark contrast to himself was unfathomable. It was, however, not his problem to solve.   
Mr Freight called his daughter and took his leave with a tip of his hat. 

Awkwardness befell the threesome once the Freights had left. Elizabeth had nothing to say, he had come to her territory. If he had something to say, it was up to him.  
Elizabeth was staring at him, unflinchingly, straight into the eyes. It was a hardened look that softened immediately when her daughter grabbed her cheek and pulled her towards her. 

“Sorry, petal, I almost forgot you were there. Are you hungry, Ellie?”

The child nodded and Elizabeth turned to walk inside.

“You named her for yourself?”

“No.”

“Ellie is not short for Elizabeth?”

“No.”

Elizabeth proceeded into the cottage, Mr Darcy followed.   
She prepared a piece of bread and jam for Ellie and put her in one of the two chairs by the table. 

“What is her name?”

“Elysande Darcy.”

“Your mother's name?”

“No.”

“Why then?”

“The name is from a legend, I do not know if it is true...  
Back in medieval times, Longbourn was called Riverlong but it was basically the same land. It was a farm, much as it is today. The myth says that Elysande, one of the daughters of the squire, was traded by her brother to a Viking warrior. She married and left England to fight alongside her husband. She fought at the battle of Hafrsfjord, on Harald Fairhair’s side. They won and she became the lady of Nidaros. An Earldom gifted by the king for their heroic efforts in the war which won him sovereignty of Norway. According to the legend, Elysande was an accomplished archer...”

“Why would the brother trade her? Were they poor?”

“I do not think so. The ruins of the house still exist, a few hundred yards behind Longbourn, it was not a small house. The brother had been captured by the Vikings. The educated boys were castrated and sent to the far east as eunuchs. Gaillard, the brother, offered the warrior his most beautiful sister Cecily but Ulvhedin preferred Elysande for her beautiful, long red hair over her sister's fair locks. She seemed like a strong lady, turning her misfortune into victory. My Elysande will need some of that strength.”

“Elysande will have everything she needs and more.”

“You have come to take her from me then?”

Elizabeth picked up her daughter from the chair and held her close to her chest, burying her countenance in babe's soft curls.

“Not necessarily, I want you to come too.”.

He had no idea why he had offered Elizabeth to accompany her daughter. It was insanity... Yet, he could not rip a child from her mother's arms. Not when the mother was alive and well. Besides, he was in no danger from her...

“Why?”

“I would not separate a daughter from her mother if it is not absolutely necessary.”

He guessed the child was more important to Elizabeth than anything else. He would have to bargain with her maternal sensibilities. Any love she had for him had been distinguished that night in December, judging by the hardened look she gave him. Perhaps she had never held him in any regard. Her actions had contradicted the existence of any tender sentiments.

“She is my heir, Elizabeth. Most likely the only one I will ever have.”

“Pemberley does not have an entail?”

“No.”

“Georgiana could inherit...”

Darcy contemplated how to tell her, he had muddled his speech up until now. He had thought it wise not to rehearse something previously written. He had done that when he proposed to her at Hunsford. Of course, when he had first made a start of it, he had added a lot of nonsense... His second proposal had come from the heart on the spur of the moment. It served him much better at the time than his rehearsed speech which led him to the conundrum he was currently facing. He had no idea what to say. Mr Darcy chuckled mirthlessly.

“I thought I had to leave Pemberley to Georgiana because she is engaged to be married to Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

Elizabeth gasped, her hand flew to her chest.

“Owie, mama?” His precocious daughter inquired and tried to blow on Elizabeth’s hand. 

“No, petal. Mama is fine.”

Darcy noticed Elizabeth’s hands, they were not the soft and delicate ones that had caressed him so tenderly. Had it only been two and a half years? It felt like a lifetime. Her hands were worn and callused, the skin was brown from working the fields.   
Elizabeth noticed where his gaze was resting and hid her hands in her daughter’s gown. Darcy felt like crying. He forced his eyes away and bent his head. 

“I always wondered what could have been his motive. I had not thought it to be quite as grand. What does Georgiana believe happened? Was she left in the dark?”

“No, she knows the whole sordid tale. She does not believe the Colonel has done anything wrong.”

“She believes that I instigated the incident in the library?” 

Elizabeth asked incredulously. “But of course she believes her heroic cousin and infallible brother. Never mind the question... Will Georgiana and the Colonel be staying with you?”

“Occasionally, where they are to live have not yet been decided.”

“Will you accompany your daughter to Pemberley or not?”

“What choice do I have?”

“There is always a choice, Elizabeth. You could stay here and live off your seventy pounds a year. You could go the bank and withdraw your pin-money and live much more comfortably on your own or you can follow Elysande to Pemberley.”

“Not much of a choice...” Elizabeth remarked flatly.

“May I hold her, Elizabeth?”

“I want my sister to come and visit me at Pemberley.”

“I suppose that could be arranged.”

“That simple? I know she gave you the cut direct...”

“Pemberley is a large estate. I do not expect to encounter her.”

Elizabeth turned her gaze upon her daughter, resting on her hips.

“Ellie, meet your Papa.”

“Like Mr Bingle?”

“Yes, like Mr Bingley is Charlie’s Papa, Mr Darcy is your Papa.”  
The precious child stretched his arms towards him.

“Want Papa.”

She must have learned from Charlie... Elizabeth moved to the door. Like she was readying for cutting off his exit should he try to escape with her daughter.

Elizabeth’s green eyes flashed before his inner eye, together with Colonels Fitzwilliam’s brown ones, as he looked into his daughter's blue eyes that mirrored his own.  
He felt his heart beat heavily in his throat, as his daughter tucked her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

“Pretty Papa,” she smiled brilliantly before she noticed his intricately tied cravat. It immediately caught her interest and she tugged until he was half-strangled. He did not care, she could tug all she wanted as long as she was in his arms. He kissed the curly head that was bent over his chest in concentration. She smelled divine, he could not help himself as he sniffed her hair. A single tear escaped its confinement, he did not care if Elizabeth could see it...


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Elizabeth felt the awkwardness acutely when she descended the carriage at Pemberley under scrutiny from the upper servants. Mr Darcy was carrying his daughter proudly on his arm. Elizabeth wished it was she that had her daughter to centre her attention on. She could not bring herself to fuss when Mr Darcy was holding Ellie. It brought her in too close proximity with the man who had ripped the ground from under her feet. 

She would have to be on her guard. The servants eyed her suspiciously although they acted with politeness. The Darcy household servants had been properly trained.   
She entered the door and looked perplexed around herself. Pemberley looked the same from the outside but on the inside, everything had changed. Even rooms had switched places. It was like it had been torn down and rebuilt. The changes were lovely but unnecessary in Elizabeth’s mind. The feel from generations passed had vanished in fresh paint and modern furniture. 

As they walked the hallways, Elizabeth recognised a few of the old pieces she had cherished. Statues, little tables, a vase.

“I suppose you would like to refresh yourself before supper but perhaps you would like to see the nursery first?”

“That will not be necessary, Ellie is staying with me.”

“Ellie will stay in the nursery.”

How could she forget so easily that she no longer had any say over her daughter...  
A painted screen covered the door to the mistress chamber. Elizabeth gawked at the scene displayed. A poor rendition of Jezebel being fed to the dogs. The image made Elizabeth feel sick.

Darcy noticed Elizabeth’s whiten countenance a little too late. She had suddenly become awfully pale... He turned towards the object in front of her. It was a horrible picture, where it had come from he had no idea. It was a door he had opted not to look at for the last two and a half years. He pushed the screen out of the way only to discover how his steward had bolted the door shut. It was boarded close...

“Excuse me while I see to that.”

Mr Darcy relinquished his daughter into Elizabeth’s arms and strode away to find his steward. He came back with a woodworker to remove the boards. Elizabeth wandered down the hallway to the end. It held a door leading out to a balcony overlooking the lake in the front of Pemberley. Ellie squirmed in her arms, she loved the water and would likely have walked straight into it.

Mr Darcy called them back, the boards were gone.   
Elizabeth entered her old chamber who had been left untouched in its entirety. The biscuit tray she had emptied still rested on the table she had left it on. There was surprisingly little dust in the unused room but the air was suffocating none the less.  
Mr Darcy walked over to the windows and threw them wide open, letting the gentle summer breeze waft through the stale air. 

Elizabeth walked over to her dressing room and opened the door. By the noises coming from within, she gathered that the servant entrance in the back had gotten the same treatment as the door from the hallway. The connecting door to her husbands adjoining room was boarded shut as well.  
All her garments hung in the closet, her shoes neatly placed underneath, her stays lay in the drawers. It was like she had never left...

Mr Darcy had seemed angry when she had left but he must have been hurt as well. Why else had he not burned her belongings and redecorated the room to divest himself of all the memories of her?

“We can drive to Lambton and get you new gowns and everything else you need on the morrow or any other day that would suit.”

Ellie sneezed on her arm. A footman came in with her chest while a maid entered carrying a pitcher of heated water. The next moment, all had left, even Mr Darcy. Elizabeth breathed out and put her daughter down.

“Let us wash up and changed into something less dusty, petal.”  
Ellie sneezed her assent.  
~***~  
Elizabeth had no need for a shopping trip to Lambton. Her old gowns fit well enough to wear. She gathered a few she thought she would need and carried it with her to the nursery. Ellie's chest had been emptied and put into the drawers. An adjoining room held a cot for the nurse. Elizabeth hassled the cot into the nursery. She did not feel like taking her eyes off her daughter for a single moment.  
~***~  
Mr Darcy called her to his study before supper. She accepted the pin-money he offered her. Not as much as her marriage settlement had stated but enough to put away for the next time she found herself on Pemberley's doorstep with nowhere to go.  
~***~  
Rumours spread quickly that the mistress of Pemberley had returned. Three days after their arrival, guests were announced in the blue parlour who had turned green since she was last there. Elizabeth thought it a quirky fact the old appellations were still kept although the rooms had altered. Old habits die hard. The music room was now part of the library although the pianoforte had not been moved. Not particularly practical if one wanted a peaceful moment to read while someone practised on the pianoforte.  
Approaching the blue parlour with Ellie on her arm, she could hear Mr Darcy speak with a flat voice.   
She espied Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana standing in front of her husband, the moment she entered. She fought off the revulsion that threatened to consume her. Vultures travels fast... Words about a Darcy heiress must have reached them and they must have come to gauge the truth of the matter. Elizabeth tightened her grip around her daughter who squirmed by the fierceness of her mother’s hold on her.

“Papa,” Ellie stretched her arms towards her father. The little scamp had warmed incredibly fast to the dark, brooding giant of a man. She was dwarfed in his arms as he received her plea with obvious pleasure. Perched on his arm she hid her countenance in his neck, nuzzling her nose against his warm skin. Her thumb found its way to her mouth as she occasionally peaked at the intruders that had made her mother tense.  
‘Traitor,’ Elizabeth thought. She felt bereft, defenceless without Ellie in her arms.

“Georgiana, meet your niece, Elysande. The heiress to Pemberley.” The latter, a stab towards his cousin who had not taken his eyes off her daughter.

Georgiana stood indecisively, you could see the turmoil in her mind displayed on her countenance. Her gaze turned to the Colonel for support but he did not notice.

“I come with great news, brother. Richard and I were married only two days ago. I wished you had come but we could not postpone it any longer. We did not know where you were or when you would return...”

“I see...” Was the only reply to be had. No offers of well wishes nor congratulations left her brother’s mouth. Georgiana waited in stunned silence but none were forthcoming.

The Colonel took a step forward.

“Does she resemble you?” The Colonel remarked cockily.

Mr Darcy made no reply but glared at his cousin.

“She didn’t act as an innocent wife, married for only a month... I would not take Mrs Darcy's word for it.”

The Colonel glanced at his wife, Georgiana was staring back, wide-eyed, the Colonel shrugged.

“There might have been others.” The Colonel suggested. “You are a fool, Darcy, if you accept Elysande as your own.”

Hearing her name, spurred Ellie into action. “Pretty Papa,” she said and kissed his cheek. 

“You were always too tender-hearted, Darcy. At Pemberley it was Wickham, look how well that turned out. At school it was Bingley, his wife later gave you the cut direct. By the looks of it, he did not stand up for you. Now it is the bastard child of God knows who... You should have learned by now, not to try rescue every black sheep you come across.”

“Bastaw...” Ellie mimicked every new word she heard or tried to. It woke Elizabeth from her stupor of encountering the Colonel so soon after reaching Pemberley. The fear lost its grip.

“I hardly think this is a conversation fit for a child.” Elizabeth pronounced. Mr Darcy handed Ellie to her waiting arms and she immediately quit the room. The Colonel followed her to the threshold but not beyond.

With all the calm she could muster, Elizabeth continued to the nursery and rang the bell. A maid entered after a few short minutes. Elizabeth ordered food to be delivered to the nursery, she would share her meal with her daughter. Something made her not want to leave her side, not that her company would be missed by any of the other occupants...

Elizabeth was not particularly worried for herself. The Colonel had never, apart from the incident in the library, shown any romantic interest in her person. She had been stunned when he hinted at his impediments towards choosing his own bride at Rosings. Implying it had anything to do with herself. The latter years’ events had proved her right. The Colonel had no interest in her beyond being the wife of the master of Pemberley and subsequently the mother of the future heirs. The Colonel now married to the heir presumptive, before her daughter surprised him with her existence, could mean only one thing. The Colonel wanted Pemberley with any means necessary. Why Mr Darcy seemed oblivious to the fact was a conundrum but she doubted any input from her would change his opinion.   
Elysande's female gender must have come as a disappointment to Mr Darcy but he seemed to prefer her as his successor over his cousin. The Colonel must recognize the preference, making him a potential threat to her daughter.  
Elizabeth had initially removed herself to the nursery to escape the proximity of Mr Darcy. The move had an additional advantage of enabling her to protect her daughter. Her evening prayer would be dedicated to fervently wishing Mr Darcy would not oppose to the arrangement should it come to his attention.   
~***~  
The breakfast room, the next morning, was shy one resident. It irked him that Elizabeth shunned his company so much that she would not deign to share a meal with him. He had excused her behaviour the previous evening due to fatigue from her travels but she should be well rested by now. He discreetly ordered his servant to fetch her. It would not do for the mistress of Pemberley to snub her guests. Although he admitted that he found some pleasure in observing her reserve towards the Colonel. She should rightly feel ashamed of herself, even some trepidation...

The footman returned unsuccessfully. Mrs Darcy was not in her chamber and nothing suggested she had been there since the previous evening. The bed had been left untouched, according to the maid who had lit the fire in the morning. The servant had been very thorough. 

It would not have been such an uncommon occurrence before Mrs Darcy's estrangement. She often slept in the master's suite but none of the servants working at Pemberley was unfamiliar with the course of events...

“Find her,” the master of Pemberley hissed to his footman.

“I already have. She has broken her fast in the nursery, Sir. There seems to have been added an extra cot to the room as well, Sir.”

“Thank you, that will be all.” Mr Darcy managed to grit out through his teeth.

If she had relocated to the nursery to avoid his advances, it had been an unnecessary endeavour. He had no wish to resume their intimate relationship. Mrs Darcy was here solely for the comfort of the child, nothing else.

“Is Mrs Darcy giving you trouble already?” The Colonel inquired with a poorly concealed smirk.

“Nothing I cannot handle... I have some business to attend to this morning, you will have to entertain yourself for a while.”  
“We can manage, can we not dear?”

The Colonel and his sister shared a pitiful glance in his direction. Mr Darcy did not want sympathy. He was no worse off than most of his acquaintances if the stories related at White's were true. Cuckolding was fairly common, faithfulness rather scarce in the higher circles. Served him right for choosing a wife so beneath him in station, although he doubted he had been any better off with a wife from the upper éclat’s. The female gender was labelled the weaker sex for a reason. He had to prove his sex was stronger, less fickle... Mr Bingley sprung to mind, he had demonstrated more backbone than he had previously given him credit for.  
~***~  
Elizabeth entered the dining room with her head held high. Her husband had called her to his study and related in no uncertain terms that she was expected to attend breakfast, tea and supper as long as they were entertaining guests. Elizabeth felt the perverseness of entertaining the Colonel. The man that had accosted her and ruined her life. Why Mr Darcy could tolerate him was beyond her comprehension. He might abide him for the sake of his sister or he blamed herself alone for the debacle.  
Elizabeth let her gaze drift towards the Colonel. He paid his sole attention to his wife. A relief, in Elizabeth’s set of mind. She had been apprehensive after he followed her to the threshold earlier but it seemed like he had just ruffled his feathers, trying to intimidate her.  
Her gaze shifted to Mr Darcy. He seemed immersed in thoughts, picking at his food. His eyes left his plate and swept over his sister. Elizabeth’s stifled a gasp at the tender sentiments reflected. He was certainly tolerating his cousin because of his sister.

“Mrs Darcy...”

Elizabeth startled, surprised at being addressed. “Yes!”

“I wonder where you and Elysande have been living these past years?”

Georgiana, bless her heart, trying to include her in the conversation. Mr Darcy was scowling while the Colonel concentrated on his food.

“I rented a cottage in Little King's Hill.”

“How delightful, we have a cottage in the Lake District.”

Elizabeth smiled, she had never seen the Darcys cottage in the Lake District but she did not need to, to certify that it was nothing like her cramped quarters.

“Lovely, have you often had the opportunity to travel there?”

“No, not often... I have some delightful memories of fishing with my father and my brother. Richard and I are going there for our honeymoon.”

Georgiana blushed scarlet after mentioning her honeymoon, stealing glances at Elizabeth.

“I hope you have a lovely time, Mrs Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth smiled reassuringly whilst omitting to mention the Colonel. Neither did she bring up her own wish to see it.   
~***~  
Elysande had a restless night. She had awoken in the evening and noticed her mother was missing. It had taken Elizabeth some time to calm her daughter when she returned from supper. As a result, Ellie was clinging to her mother the next morning, refusing to let go. Elizabeth had no choice but to bring her daughter to the breakfast room, worried that the Colonel might pay her too much attention.  
The Colonel paid Ellie no mind at all, preoccupied as he was with serving his wife. Mr Darcy, on the other hand, wondered why the child had been brought out of the nursery.

“She is used to her mother being present at all times. She needs time to adjust, Mr Darcy.” Elizabeth replied curtly.

Mr Darcy instructed a maid to remove the child but Ellie screamed, tears flowing down her cherubic face while her arms stretched towards her mother.  
Mr Darcy relented and grumpily allowed his daughter to remain with her mother. Ellie sat primly by her side. Elizabeth buttered a roll and spread her favourite jam on top. The child quieted down with a few hiccups remaining.

“Did you never leave her with her nurse?” Georgiana inquired.  
A mirthless chuckle escaped Elizabeth’s throat before she could stop it.  
She answered Georgiana in a subdued manner. It was not a topic she wanted to expound upon.

“I did not have a nurse, Mrs Fitzwilliam.”

Mr Darcy felt no impediments towards relating Elizabeth’s reduced circumstances, perhaps he wanted to set an example to his sister...

“Mrs Darcy lived in a two-room cottage with no servants, Georgiana.”

“But... Who cooked, cleaned and held the fires going?” 

Georgiana's none to subtle glance at Elizabeth’s hands made her tuck them under the table.

“I did, Mrs Fitzwilliam. I also carried the water and chopped my own firewood.”

“I thought Mr Freight chopped your wood,” Mr Darcy rudely interrupted.

“He did when he came by with his daughter.” Elizabeth turned to Georgiana to explain. She could not stomach facing Mr Darcy. “I did her hair on occasions where they were entertaining and taught her to play the pianoforte in exchange for permission to collect firewood in the nearby forest. Mr Freight was the owner. Of course, my brother often came by to do the heavy chores, once he discovered my whereabouts.”

“I was unaware you had a brother, Mrs Darcy.” The Colonel interjected.

Elizabeth turned her gaze towards her nemesis.

“Mr Bingley married my eldest sister in the autumn of 1812, as you well know.” She did not mention that she had been married at the same ceremony. 

The Colonel laughed. “I cannot picture Bingley chopping wood, he was always so... delicate.”

Elizabeth levelled a look that could ignite a fire on the Colonel.  
“Mr Bingley is the most amiable man I have ever met. His strength is in his mind, Colonel Fitzwilliam. He brought men from his employ, he did not labour himself.”

“Charlie papa Bingle?” Ellie found her voice when her dear uncle was mentioned. “Ellie’s papa,” she added, pointing at Mr Darcy who startled at the appellation.

“Would you say that yielding easily to persuasion is a sign of strength, Mrs Darcy?” The Colonel would not let it rest, overlooking Ellie's exclamation as he had not heard her.  
If Elizabeth had been in doubt that the Colonel had been deliberate when he related Mr Darcy's interference in Mr Bingley's affairs, none where left. Mr Darcy seemed to be of the same mind, judging by the frown between his brows.

“That would depend entirely on the trustworthiness of the persuader. To yield to a friend of long-standing, someone with greater experience in the matter is not a sign of weakness but humility. Humility, I believe is a strength. To be too certain of your own abilities, never seeking advice from your superiors might lead you to failure as much as listening to advice from an untrustworthy source. Take Napoleon’s invasion of Russia as an example. We should be grateful he did not listen to the advice of wise men or he would not have lost his soldiers to the cold Russian winter.”

Elizabeth suddenly noticed Georgiana looking watery-eyed at Ellie who was munching on a roll with jam. Happily swaying her legs, looking innocently at the adults around the table with her nose barely above the table. Her dark mop of curls bouncing with the swaying of her legs.  
Ellie noticed all eyes were on her and crawled self-conscious upon her mother’s lap, hiding her face in her neck. She tugged at her mother’s elaborately coifed hair, to hid underneath the tresses but her mother stalled her notion.

Elizabeth left the suppressed atmosphere of the breakfast room, hardly having touched her food. She was potty training Ellie. Experience had taught her that it was wise to put her daughter on the potty soon after breaking her fast and she hurried down the hallway to reach the nursery before it was too late.

~***~

The weather was cooperating, mother and daughter headed out of doors as soon as Ellie was ready.   
Elizabeth donned the dreaded mob cap that every married lady was expected to wear.   
She had not adhered to all the strictures of propriety when she lived alone in her cottage, shunned by society at large. Visitors were few and far between...  
Neither had she any time to spare on inconsequential matters. At least Pemberley provided her with more time of leisure, strolling the gardens with her daughter. Letting her labour worn hands time to heal.

Elizabeth remembered a swing, hanging from the branch of an apple tree in one of the rose gardens. Ellie toddled beside her and squealed when the swing came within sight, tugging her mother's hand to walk faster.  
Elizabeth lifted her daughter onto her lap and swayed them with her feet. Ellie rose in her lap, bouncing up and down, eager to go faster, higher. Elizabeth surrendered to her daughter wishes and kicked them off, swinging towards the sky. Elizabeth leaned back with her daughter laying on her stomach. White, mackerel clouds drifted past high above in the sky. Elizabeth wondered when The Colonel and his wife would leave. It could not be more pleasant for them to tarry than it was for herself or Mr Darcy. For some unexplainable reason, she did not fear Mr Darcy. She did not like him nor trust him, he should have listened to her when the Colonel accosted her. It goes to show that he never truly loved her when he trusted her so little... Elizabeth tried to imagine herself in Mr Darcy's shoes. What would she have done? She would not have believed her own eyes. Confident that she would have let him explain... Or perhaps not... Not if it had been Caroline Bingley, a lady who had imagined herself as the future mistress of Pemberley. Elizabeth doubted she would have conjectured the possibility without any encouragement but Elizabeth had a very slight acquaintance with the Colonel. If he had not embellished their previous interactions, she would not put it past him...

~***~

A week later, the Colonel and his wife were still at Pemberley. The ambience had not improved but soured further. The only consultation in Elizabeth’s eyes was the fact that the Colonel showed no interest in neither herself nor her daughter. He might be a despicable man but he seemed to represent no threat.

Ellie was adapting to her nurse, letting Elizabeth leave for the mealtimes with her guests unaccompanied. She would have preferred to stay in the nursery but her revengeful husband would not permit it. What he hoped to accomplish was certainly not obvious to Elizabeth, other than tormenting herself. He had not seemed revengeful in his dealings with Mr Wickham, she guessed her feelings were less important...

Elizabeth sighed and left her daughter with her capable nurse to take tea with the adult residents of Pemberley. She was late...

“I expect you to be on time for supper,” Mr Darcy grunted.

“It is still a delicate matter to leave Ellie with the nurse. If I make too much haste, the nurse has a crying toddler on her hands instead of a contented one. It is how it is, taking care of a child.”

“Are you accusing me of not taking care of my child?”

Mr Darcy had hardly spoken to her since their journey north. How unlike him to pick a fight in front of his sister. Elizabeth decided a cautious route might be the wisest.

“I merely try to explain the difference in our positions. I am not suggesting you do not provide for your child.”

Mr Darcy relented as the butler brought the mail on a silver salver. There was one for Elizabeth as well.

“Oh, it is from Jane,” Elizabeth exclaimed happily to three stony faces. She immediately schooled her features and brought her letter to the sunlight by the window to read it. Turning her back to the room, bowing over her letter.

It was the first letter Elizabeth had received from her family after entering Pemberley grounds. It bore glad tidings, Jane and Bingley were on their way. They would arrive in little more than a week and Mr Darcy had said that the Bingleys were welcome at Pemberley. He would not go back on his words, would he?  
Elizabeth gnawed on her bottom lip, eager for a visit from her favourite brother and sister but apprehensive that it might come to nought.

“Bad news, Mrs Darcy?”

Elizabeth turned towards Georgiana. “No, not at all. My sister Mrs Bingley is coming with her husband for a visit. They will arrive a week and a day from now. Ellie will be thrilled.”

“You cannot allow it!” The Colonel uttered aghast.

“I am indebted to Bingley,” Mr Darcy replied quietly.

“That was many years ago, you cannot mean that the service has not been repaid, several times over I would think.”

“He saved my life...”

“Someone else would have noticed, eventually...” The Colonel replied scornfully but Mr Darcy could not be moved.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Elizabeth felt some gratitude towards Mr Darcy for allowing her relations to visit and decided to propose to him the only service she could offer. Tentatively, she knocked on the door to his study. A firm voice bade her enter.

Mr Darcy looked up from his ledger as she approached his desk. He quickly schooled the surprise on his countenance to an emotionless expression. His eyes were so cold, Elizabeth courage threatened to falter.

“I wondered if you wanted me to resume my duties?”

Mr Darcy’s brows shot up towards his hairline. Elizabeth immediately recognised her mistake.

“I still have a lot to learn but if Mrs Reynolds would not mind teaching me. I am certain I could be of some use...” Elizabeth added helplessly. The interview did not unfold quite as she had expected.

“No.” Mr Darcy resumed adding the numbers in his ledger. Offering no explanation for his harsh rejection nor did he bother to dismiss her from his office.

Crestfallen, she left him to do his chores while she was not allowed to perform hers. Perhaps he wanted Georgiana to run his house, despite her status of a guest or was she? She had heard no mention of a departure date nor had they named any estate as their own. Elizabeth shuddered at the thought of the Colonel as a permanent resident of Pemberley. In her mind, there had to be an end to this awkwardness although it had not been expressed...  
~**~  
As soon as the door closed behind his wife, Darcy strode to the window. For a moment he had thought Elizabeth was offering herself to him. An abundance of rebukes had immediately surfaced and he had readied himself to tell her were Moses had bought his ale...  
The thought of sharing his bed with his wife was in every way repugnant to him. She had let herself be kissed and fondled by his closest relation, obviously enjoying the treatment. The image was forever engraved in his mind.

Annoyed, stunned, horrified. 

The aftermath was less distinct, time had blurred his memory apart from their recent interactions.   
He should not have brought her home. He blamed the impulse of the moment as a lapse of sanity. He could not stomach the thought of his daughter growing up without a mother... Georgiana had taught him the importance of maternal affection.

Darcy tried to revert his thought to the task before him but heavy footsteps were approaching and they came to halt outside his door. The door opened without a knock, it could only be his cousin.

“Darcy, I have some disturbing news that cannot wait.”

“You should come in and close the door then.” Darcy sighed and pushed the ledger out of his sight.

“I have a friend, a Colonel in the army stationed in Newcastle, as you might remember. I received a letter from him this morning stating that Wickham has left his post without leave. He was having a day off but failed to report back for duty a couple of days ago. I worry about Georgiana, should she accidentally run into him.”

“Did the letter give you any clue as to where he has gone?”

“No, his wife is still in Newcastle, allegedly with no idea of where he could be or so she has declared to Colonel Norton.”

“We should be on alert but there is nothing for him here now that Georgiana is married. He has no reason for blackmail since you know about the Ramsgate debacle. If he has left his post, it is probably because his debts of honour collectors are breathing down his neck.”

“I hope you are right, Darcy. He has always come to you when he found himself in a tight spot financially...”

“Those days are long past, Richard. He begged for more funds after he married Lydia but it has been a couple of years since I last turned down a request for coin from him,” Darcy said with finality. He had left Wickham in no doubt that his coffers were closed to him for all eternity.

The cousins fell into silent contemplation, although on different subjects.   
Wickham was no longer a threat, Darcy reckoned. It had been a long time since he had kept any surveillance on him but he knew had adapted to his new life in Newcastle. If he had mucked it up, he was on his own this time. 

What Darcy wanted to speak to his cousin about, he could not... He could not evict his sister from her home but the toll of keeping up appearance was grating on him. Adept as he was in concealing his emotions, this charade had gone on long enough. Something was grinding a void in his stomach but he had set his course, he would stick to it.

~***~

Elizabeth restored her equilibrium with a frolic in the garden with her daughter before supper. She tired more easily when her energy was spent. Elizabeth preferred Ellie to be asleep before she left her for the dining room.  
Why Mr Darcy insisted she was present was still a mystery. Georgiana occasionally included her in the conversation but she was more often than not entirely ignored.   
She listened to the conversations around her and sometimes gleaned useful tidbits, like this evening. Georgiana pronounced a wish to go shopping in Lambton, Mr Darcy seemed to take umbrage at that but was immediately mollified by the Colonel’s insistence he would accompany her. Georgiana was thrilled while Mr Darcy seemed content with the arrangement. Elizabeth thought the exchange was somewhat peculiar but since no one told her anything of import, she indulged herself with the knowledge that she could relax her stance against the Colonel when he was not present. A longer rambled into the woods with her daughter was settled on. She dared not walk too far from the security of Pemberley's footmen when the Colonel was near.

~***~

Elizabeth snuck down to the kitchen to order a basket of victuals for their sojourn into the wilds of Derbyshire. Elizabeth was not familiar with the surrounding area outside the formal gardens and she could not expect Ellie to walk too far but the hill behind the house had paths leading to it. They should be safe enough whilst secluded enough to afford Elizabeth the solitude she craved.  
With their sustenance secured, Elizabeth joined her relatives in the breakfast parlour.   
Georgiana invited Elizabeth along on her trip to Lambton but Elizabeth declined politely. Excusing herself with her daughter’s education. Mr Darcy took it as a cue to look for a governess. That had not at all been Elizabeth’s purpose. Ellie had not even had her second birthday. 

Soon enough the party dissolved without further mentioning of a governess. Mr and Mrs Fitzwilliam headed for their carriage while Mr Darcy disappeared in the direction of his study. Elizabeth fetched her daughter from the nursery, giving the nurse a few hours off and collected the basket of edibles from the kitchen. Holding her daughter’s hand they strolled towards cascading waters when a footman caught up with them.  
Elizabeth groaned, he was probably sent by Mr Darcy to curtail their excursion to the hill. 

“Mrs Darcy!” The footman called breathlessly.

Elizabeth halted in her tracks and reluctantly turned around to face her pursuer.

“Where are you going, Mrs Darcy?”

“I am taking my daughter to the top of the hill for a picnic.”

Elizabeth looked defiantly at the footman who wore an aghast expression.

“Let me accompany you, Mrs Darcy.”

It did not seem like the footman had been sent by Mr Darcy or he would surely have ordered them to turn by now.

“There is no need for that, Jonathan. We are perfectly capable of following the path.” Elizabeth contemplated for a second to reveal just how competent she was in managing her affairs alone but the servants had enough reasons to disdain her as it was. She silently wondered how his expression would turn if she admitted to chopping down trees and carrying water...

“I do not think Mr Darcy would approve,” Jonathan persisted.

“I take full responsibility, Jonathan. If Mr Darcy does not approve, I will explain that it was I that denied you permission to follow us. Would that suffice so that we can continue our little excursion?”

The footman nodded reluctantly but stayed put as Elizabeth and Ellie continued on the path up the hill. Soon, they were concealed by a dense thicket to Elizabeth’s relief. Hopefully, the footman went back to the house now that they could no longer be seen.

Ellie was an accomplished walker, just like her mother. She did not walk fast but she had the stamina of youth and adventures around every crook and corner awaited to be explored. Beetles, worms, a squirrel in a tree could keep her occupied while not even noticing the long track but she was rather worn when they reached the summit, it had been longer route than Elizabeth had anticipated.  
After their meal had been consumed on a throw their cook had added to the basket, Ellie fell asleep. Her head rested in her mother’s lap while Elizabeth combed her fingers through her daughter’s natural ringlets. Peace fell upon her, listening to the birds, gazing out over the Emperor lake and fields of quivering barley. Elizabeth sat with her back turned to the house on purpose. She had no need to gaze upon the beautiful but suffocating chambers torture. Elizabeth would have accepted many whippings if she had been allowed to leave with her daughter afterwards. 

Elizabeth shrugged off her maudlin thoughts and reclined on the throw. She pulled her daughter up in the crook of her arm and let her eyes rest for a little while...

~***~

The earth quivered, thunder-like sounds jolted Elizabeth awake. She sat up abruptly, Ellie protested but curled up in her lap, not entirely awake yet. Elizabeth looked up on a clear blue sky.  
Slowly, her mind followed her body's awareness and realized that the sound was not thunder but fast approaching horse hooves, thumping the ground. The horse skidded to halt behind her and a heavy thump revealed that the rider had dismounted. Elizabeth stiffened and braced herself for the Colonel to appear in her line vision. She would not show her trepidation by turning to meet him. Her relief was substantial when it was Mr Darcy that rounded her throw, he did not look pleased though...

“Where is Jonathan? Where is he hiding?”

Elizabeth looked bewildered at her husband.

“I have no idea, I left him at the bottom of the hill, he must have returned to the house.”

“Do not lie to me, Mrs Darcy. I saw him following at a clandestine distance. Now, where is he?”

Elizabeth would have laughed had she not seen the rage suffusing Mr Darcy's entire being.

A twig snapped in a nearby scrub, Jonathan emerged from the bushes.

“I am sorry, Mr Darcy, but when Mrs Darcy insisted on continuing alone. I thought I should follow at a distance to make sure they did not get lost, Sir. I beg your pardon if I was missed at the house, Sir, but I could not in good conscience let them wander off while Mr Wickham is unaccounted for...”

“How did you know Mr Wickham have left his regiment?”

“Colonel Fitzwilliam told the servants to be on the lookout for him, Mr Darcy. He seemed worried for the child as she is an easy target for blackmail, Sir. I have heard of the child-stripping’s in London and a few abductions, it is not even a felony but a misdemeanour...”

“You are dismissed, return to the house immediately.”

The footman twirled on his feet and sat out in long strides towards the indicated direction. 

Elizabeth regarded Mr Darcy warily, what exactly was the man insinuating?  
That she was having a liaison with a footman in a groove with her child at her side? It was a nauseating thought... The chance of her letting a man close enough to touch her inappropriately was slim to none, voluntarily.

Rage still lingered in Mr Darcy's countenance. Elizabeth had never regarded him as a violent man but when he stepped closer, she had to fight the urge to recoil. He sniffed her. Anger rose from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair. Did her husband just smell her to gauge if she had entertained the footman in an intimate fashion? Her arm rose by reflection and slapped him across the cheek.

“I had never thought the day would come when I wished I had married Mr Collins.”

Her hand stung and a handprint bloomed on the left side Mr Darcy's face when she turned and huddled the throw in the basket. With Ellie on her hip and the basket in her hand, she left her stunned husband in a fit of pique that had not seen its equal.

~***~

Supper was the most uncomfortable Elizabeth had ever felt. The ambience was frosty between the Master and Mistress of Pemberley, neither could stand the sight of the other.   
The Colonel looked confused between them, wondering what he had missed while Georgiana did not seem to notice.

When the meal had been consumed, Elizabeth rose to leave but Mr Darcy immediately stalled her.

“Let us all remove to the music room, I am in the mood for some music,” Mr Darcy claimed.

Elizabeth thought he was in the mood for some music to torture her with his presence. When he turned to leave the room, the handprint on his face became visible. Elizabeth stifled a gasp, no wonder he was upset with her. She had not thought her lapse of comportment would have such a lasting effect. She really owed him an apology...

Deflated, she followed him to the music room and sat in the corner she usually occupied, away from the others. She reached in her basket for some mending when Georgiana begged off playing the pianoforte. The Colonel had bought her a new novel and she was eager to continue her reading. 

“Cannot Elizabeth play?” Georgiana asked innocently.

Elizabeth shook her head but Mr Darcy did not notice.

“Yes, if you are not inclined,” he answered for her, addressing Georgiana.

Elizabeth had played very little for the last two and a half years. She had taught Miss Freight but the instrument at their house was old and out of tune. Certainly, nothing to the grand pianoforte Georgiana had received as a gift from her brother in the summer of 1812.  
The music on the stand looked unfamiliar and too complicated for Elizabeth to manage with any kind of proficiency. She leafed through the stack in search of something simpler when Georgiana gave her a welcomed delay.

“Why is it that only men write poetry?” She asked, her nose still deep in her book.

“Men has a greater depth of feeling,” her brother explained.

Elizabeth managed not to snort out loud but wanted to direct the conversation away from these treacherous waters.

“Are you reading poetry? I thought it was a novel...”

“It is a novel called Persuasion. Poetry is only mentioned.”

“I have not heard of that, who is the author?”

“It does not say, it only says A Lady on the cover...”

Elizabeth nodded and returned to her search for a simple piece to play for her audience.

“Would you say gentlemen or ladies love the longest when all hope is lost?”

“Gentlemen!”

“Ladies!”

The Master and Mistress of Pemberley exclaimed simultaneously.

“Ladies are much more fickle in their affections than gentlemen.” The master hurried to explain.

“I could mention a few gentlemen that have proven themselves fickle. Some too easily persuaded by their friends...” Elizabeth retorted and clunked down on the keys to quench any retorts in the budding. A Scottish air filled the room, preventing further conversation.  
Elizabeth played two other pieces she could remember. Curtsied to the room and retired for the evening.

~***~

Sightings of Mr Wickham in Lambton became the order of the next few days. Several clues had led to an equal amount of dead ends...  
The Colonel had promised a substantial reward for those who could lead them to his capture. As a deserter from the army, the penalty was severe.

Elizabeth had written to Lydia but had not received an answer. Either the post was slow or Lydia had already left for Longbourn, she would have expected an answer today if Lydia had replied promptly. She was not the most reliable writer but if she was in dire straits, it would be in her self-interest.   
The favourable prospect was the Bingleys visit, due to arrive in two days time if all went well on their journey. Jane was most likely already informed about Lydia's trouble and could execute whatever must be done. Elizabeth had little means and even less opportunity to do anything at all. Mr Darcy would hardly allow her to travel to Newcastle and certainly not with Ellie. Leaving her daughter at Pemberley without her protection was inconceivable.

~***~

After Elizabeth had accused Mr Darcy, in a convoluted fashion, of not being hands-on with his child, Mr Darcy had started to attend Ellie in the nursery. Every afternoon after the midday meal, he spent half an hour, visiting with his daughter. Elizabeth kept in the background but never left them entirely alone. Ellie took to her father with little to no fuss. The quiet, brooding man did not intimidate her outgoing daughter at all. She sat quietly in his lap while he read to her. Tales from Shakespeare, written by Charles Lamb with large etchings by William Mulready, it must have cost a small fortune...

The Colonel burst into the nursery, scaring Elizabeth witless.

“Darcy, was your mother buried with any jewellery?”

What an odd thing to question, Elizabeth thought.

“Yes, she was buried with her wedding ring. My father did not have the heart to remove it.”

The Colonel groaned. “Did Wickham know?”

“It is a well-known fact, it has been retold as a romantic notion in this house and the nearby area for the last couple of decades... Why?”

“He was spotted by your family’s mausoleum...”

Darcy rose abruptly, forgetting about the daughter in his lap but he had the wherewithal to hold on to her. Elizabeth strode across the room and relieved him of Ellie, he turned and strode away with his cousin hot on his heels.  
Elizabeth stood indecisively in the middle of the room before she came to her senses. Wickham was depraved, selfish and would go to great lengths for monetary gain but grave robbery seemed malicious, even for him. His debts must be substantial, poor Lydia...

Elizabeth did not see her husband for the rest of the day. The Colonel arrived fifteen minutes late for dinner with a solemn expression on his countenance and announced that Darcy would be late, too late for supper. They should eat without him.

Elizabeth barely touched her food, something sinister was hanging in the air. She retired to the nursery as soon as the Fitzwilliams were finished with their meal. Fortunately, none of them tried to retain her. The meal had been awkward enough.

~***~

Mr Darcy was not in attendance at breakfast the next morning. According to the Colonel, he had slept at home but had left again, at first light.   
For some reason, his absence did not bring the relief Elizabeth would have expected. It brought more uncertainty with the Colonel in the house, sanse the protection Mr Darcy extended.  
Just one more day and Jane would be here with her serene calmness and unconditional support. Mr Bingley was an additional perk, he had risen much in her esteem since his first visit to Meryton. Jane had been the making of the man, boosting his confidence and calming his propensities towards acting on the spur of a moment whilst preserving his amiability.   
The Bingleys were not here yet though but the Colonel was... The light drizzle of the morning had intensified into a summer storm. Wherever Mr Darcy was, he was not likely to head home during a downpour. Neither could Elizabeth bring her daughter to play out of doors. She would have preferred to be out of the Colonel's way, she kept running into him and he looked more and more sombre by the hour. Hopefully, nothing had happened to Mr Darcy. Mr Darcy had most likely chosen the Colonel as guardian for their daughter if he had made any arrangements at all. Elizabeth had not thought she could ever feel deprived by Mr Darcy's absence but there was an alternative that was even less appealing.

Finally, the clouds let up and as the capricious weather in the summer could be like. The warm sun burst through and dried the ground. Elizabeth and Ellie escaped out into the garden for a turn at their favourite jaunt, the swing in the rose garden.

*Child-stripping was a common happening in the Georgian and Regency era. They took the child to take the clothes and often left the child in an unsafe area. The clothes were a valuable commodity. It did not become a felony before 1814. Info from Naomi Cliffords web page.  
*Persuasion was first published in late December 1817, in a set with Northanger Abbey. For the first time, Jane Austen was revealed as the author of all her novels. I have taken the liberty of fast-forwarding the release to 1815 and hide the identity of the author because it suited my purpose in this story.   
*Tales of Shakespeare was first published in 1807, written by the siblings Charles and Mary Lamb but Mary's name was not added until 1838. The book was designed to make Shakespeare’s plays to familiar to the young.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 

The Bingley carriage had been spotted entering the park by the vigilant servants at Pemberley House. The residents were alerted to their imminent arrival and gathered at the portico to welcome their guests. Lemonade was waiting on the cool balcony on the other side of the house. It was a balmy, midsummer day, the Bingleys must be hot and bothered being cooped up in a warm carriage.

~***~

Pemberley was everything and more than Jane could ever have imagined. The long, seemingly endless driveway, adorned by ancient oaks, opened up to a garden with the most handsome Palladian house, basking in its own reflection in the lake in front of it. Jane's hand flew up to cover her mouth.

“I never imagined... It is so grand! To think that my sister is mistress of this splendour... Mr Darcy has every reason to be proud!”

“Not that proud,” her husband replied dryly with a smile on his countenance. Who could be solemn with a wife sparkling with pleasure?

A little eternity later, the carriage came to halt by the bottom stairs of the portico. A flurry of events happened simultaneously. Greetings were made, servants shuttled back and forth with trunks and chests while the housekeeper tried to inform them of the direction to their rooms. Little Charlie and his nursemaid were whisked off to the nursery, leaving Jane somewhat bereft as she dreaded her first meeting with the master of Pemberley after she had given him the cut direct. Charlie junior would have been a cute defence that would disarm any reproaches. Mr Darcy had proven himself to respond wonderfully towards children when her offspring had run him down in town.

~**~

It was readily agreed upon to remove to the balcony with the cooling lemonade until the carriage had been unloaded and their possessions had been put into place.  
Jane accepted the lemonade and the strawberry tart Georgiana offered before addressing her most pressing matter.

“Mrs Fitzwilliam, where is my sister?”

“I would like to know where Mr Darcy is hiding,” Mr Bingley added good-naturedly. Chuckling at the cowardice displayed by his former best friends evasiveness.

“I am sorry to inform you that you have just missed them. They both expressed their deepest regrets, not being able to welcome you both to Pemberley but they had pressing matters to attend that could not be delayed another moment.” The Colonel paused, contemplating how much to tell them... “What I relate to you must be kept in utmost secrecy, it could severely damage another of your sisters if this should get commonly known...” Mr and Mrs Bingley nodded solemnly, assuring the Colonel of their confidentiality.

“A week ago, a report reached Pemberley that Mr Wickham had left his post in Newcastle and not returned to his duty within the appointed time. We did not read much into it at the time but we did alert people in the area that if they saw him that they should report back to us. A few sightings were brought to our knowledge but he was always a few steps ahead of us...” The Colonel let that bit of information hang in the air before he proceeded.

“Two days ago, Wickham was observed entering the park here at Pemberley, in a sacred area, the family mausoleum. Unfortunately, it is common knowledge that the previous master of Pemberley buried his wife without removing her wedding ring. It had a valuable 4 carat, old mine cut diamond. Wickham have accumulated debt of honour in his regiment and the ring will more than cover his IOU's and set him up nicely for the rest of his life in addition. We could not allow him to get away with it and he was captured yesterday, kept under lock and key until we could transport him back to Newcastle where he will be facing charges for desertion. Mrs Darcy was naturally concerned for her sister and wanted to accompany Darcy to secure her well being, preferably by bringing her home to Pemberley within a reasonable time. It is almost a hundred and fifty miles to Newcastle, with the condition of the roads in mind, it will take them three days each way. They will be gone for at least a week as they left yesterday. Unfortunately, we missed Mr Wickham's capture and Darcy's departure so we do not know exactly when they left.  
Mrs Fitzwilliam and I went to Matlock to inspect an estate I inherited many years ago from my grandmother. Our mission was twofold, we wanted to assess if it was in a condition and size to be our future home, in addition, to see if Wickham was hiding there. He knew about the estate and its remote location. We came back disappointed in both regards. The house is too small to live in and there was no trace of Mr Wickham. The dust layers were so thick I am absolutely certain no one has been there for the last decade or so.  
I was asked to deliver you their deepest regrets, hoping you would stay until they returned or pardon their abrupt change of plans.”

“Think nothing of it, Colonel, we understand perfectly.” Mr Bingley assured.

“I would not want Lydia to be alone at such a time but I wonder why she has not written to my mother about her problems?”

“By all due respect, Mrs Bingley, she does not know yet. I understand that Wickham disappearing for a few days have been a reoccurring event in the Wickham household.”

“Poor Lydia,” Jane sighed.

Mrs Reynolds entered the balcony, announcing that their suite of rooms was ready and the Bingleys retired to refresh themselves.

~***~

Supper turned out to be an awkward affair. The Bingleys did not know how to act in front of the Colonel that had caused so much heartbreak in their sister's life but their respect for Georgiana was too great to create havoc in her home. Mr Bingley felt certain he would manage to speak to the Colonel in private when the separation of the sexes came after supper. He was not disappointed as Georgiana eagerly led his wife to the music room.  
Mr Bingley eyed his opponent warily as the Colonel poured Mr Darcy's finest brandy into a couple of tumblers. He had not prepared any speeches beforehand, usually preferring to wing it but in this instant, he wished he had thought it through.

“Out with it, Bingley.”

The Colonel must be reading his mind...

“I am aware of the duplicity you performed in the Pemberley library.”

The Colonel barked out a laugh before replying. “It was done in the service of a friend and a close relation. I simply speeded it up so that Darcy did not fall too deeply under her spell before his awakening.”

“You may tell yourself that if it gives you comfort but I do not believe you. Darcy has clearly been miserable ever since. You turned love to hatred between a couple that had the deepest connection. You singlehandedly destroyed the happiness of an entire family. Darcy and Elizabeth are tied together until death part them with a child in their midst. Ellie is forced to grow up with parents that cannot stand each other. I do not understand how you can live with yourself...”

Mr Bingley expected a fierce retort but the Colonel sat deep in thought and no longer seemed conscious of his presence. He took advantage of the moment to remove himself from the Colonel's presence and search for his wife much pleasanter company. The Colonel neither followed nor noticed. He found her in the music room in a quiet tête-à-tête with Mrs Fitzwilliam. Mr Bingley halted on the threshold, to enjoy the picturesque domestic felicity.  
Georgiana was worrying her skirt, obviously a little nervous but Georgiana had never come across as confident to Mr Bingley. It was a difference between the two serene ladies. One in quiet confidence and strength while the other was shy by timidity and insecurities.   
Georgiana leaned forward to address his wife confidentially but Bingley heard her inquiry.

“Mrs Bingley, may I ask you a private question from one wife to another.”

Mr Bingley should have made himself known but if the Colonel was mistreating Georgiana, it was unlikely she would admit as much to him. He decided to wait another moment to reveal himself.

“You may ask me anything, Mrs Fitzwilliam,” Jane assured, resting a comforting hand on Georgiana's arm.

“Is it common to faint when one is expecting?” Georgiana’s eyebrows shot towards her hairline while her lips pressed together. 

“It is fairly common, yes. I have not experienced it myself but my sister, Elizabeth, fainted once. Her situation was extremely distressing at the time so it is not certain it was induced by the pregnancy...”

“Is it common to...” Georgiana's voice dropped even lower, to a barely audible whisper. “To bleed when you are expecting?”

“No, it is not. The withdrawal of your courses is the first sign of expecting but it is not certain before the babe quickens but I do believe that your fainting spell might have been brought by something else. Have you eaten properly?”

“I admit I have had little appetite lately...”

“Does it happen often? Perhaps a doctor should be called?”

“Oh no, there is no need for that. It was only this once, today when we went to investigate the estate my husband owns. I am glad we are not moving tither. The house was a tiny cottage and it cannot have been lived in for decades. It was in a sorry condition. I am heartily glad I do not have to live there...”

“Oh, how stressful for you. I can see such a discovery may be upsetting. It is probably why you fainted...”

“Yes, that must be it...” 

~***~

Days passed slowly in the awkward company between the Bingleys and the Fitzwilliams. Seven days had come and gone when the Colonel had his first letter from Mr Darcy, stating there would be a delay in their return.  
Jane and Charles had to sit down to discuss if they would stay at Pemberley, waiting for the Darcys or travel north to visit relations in Scarborough. It had occurred to them that they could follow the Darcys to see if they could be of aid in Newcastle but had agreed that it was too long to travel. The chance of them passing each other on the road was too great.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

A week prior

Elizabeth and Ellie practically skipped out into the garden to escape the Colonel's looming presence. The paths were dry but the grass was still wet from the rain, that did not deter them at all. A bout at the swing was had before they ventured further afield. 

The Darcy family mausoleum, an octagon with a stained-glass doom roof was suddenly hovering in front of them. Elizabeth had never ventured into this part of the park before. A densely wooded area with little to recommend it. Elizabeth would have thought with the deference Mr Darcy had mentioned his ancestors’ memory that the mausoleum would be well kept but it was not. Ivy had almost conquered the building, only the doom and the door with its marbled columns were still visible under the ivy's heavy curtain.

Elizabeth looked around, there was no one about. The thicket was not a part of the formal garden that was immaculately maintained but situated in a wilderness, allowed to grow freely. On a closer look, moss-covered the walls under the ivy. A result of decades of neglect, how strange...

A sound emanated from the building, startling Elizabeth who for a second pictured one of her husband’s ancestors to have risen from their grave. Ridiculous notion... The sound resembled the flappings of a caged bird. Like the cockatoo, Lady Catherine had in her parlour. Perhaps a bird had been trapped inside the mausoleum while Mr Wickham had plundered Mrs Darcy's final resting place? Elizabeth tried the door, it was not locked...  
Reverently opening the door, the interior surprised her. It was a narrow room, compared to the outside perimeter. Tombs were lining the walls which explained the small space inside. The marble covers that enclosed each tomb was engraved in gold letters. At the opposite end, there was a table and two chairs in cast-iron. A vase on the table held fresh flowers, the mausoleum was not as abandoned as it seemed from the outside.   
There were no birds trapped inside though. Ellie tugged at her hand, pointing at a tomb with no name engraved on the outside. A faint clattering sound could be heard. Probably the ivy branches, blowing in the wind, Elizabeth thought as a sickening sweet smell pervaded the air. A cloth tasted of rum, Elizabeth barely registered that it was held over her mouth before blackness enveloped her.

‘Ellie!’

~***~

Elizabeth tried to force her eyes open, it was pitch black regardless of the position of her eyelids. She did not feel well, nausea waved through her stomach. Something lay beside her legs. She felt her daughter’s curly hair and tried to sit up but her head butted against a stony surface. She bent to the side instead and brought her daughter up into the crook of her arm. She was sleeping heavily and did not awaken. It must be in the middle of the night but some things did not add up. Like the other form that lay shaking at her side. It might be a dog, it was panting in short swift gasps. Dogs could sometimes tremble when they were cold. Mr Darcy had mastiffs patrolling the grounds of Pemberley but they were never allowed inside... She dared not touch it in case it would bite her hand. 

A sweet smell spread to the air, Elizabeth could see a sliver of light before darkness befell her again.  
The next time Elizabeth came to, her bed was still cold but it did not stand still. It rocked and swayed, making a rattling noise it was difficult to overlook when one was trying to sleep. It was smaller than she remembered, walls caving in on her on all four sides. Her chest was warmed by her sleeping daughter but the rest of her was cold. The cover must have fallen off the bed but Elizabeth could not muster the strength to retrieve it. She wondered what the noise that sounded like carriage wheels against gravel could be before she fell asleep for the second time.

~***~

“What do you think?” 

The Colonel handed his wife out of the carriage. Georgiana did not reply...

The house was in a sorry state and much smaller than he remembered from his youth. It was strange how everything seemed to shrink as one grew older...  
He walked around the cottage, wading knee-high through weeds and bushes before he tentatively opened the door. The roof had obvious leaks, judging by the mould... It was inhabitable and unsalvageable.

“We will have to tear it down and rebuild,” he determined.

Georgiana sighed with relief. She dreaded living in such cramped conditions no matter the renovations that could be done.

“I am so relieved. I do not need a house as grand as Pemberley but it would be nice with a few guest rooms and a decent nursery...”

“You will have that and more, Georgiana. Why not duplicate Pemberley here on Matlock land.”

The Colonel spread his arms. Georgiana tried to imagine it but the deserted cottage bore little resemblance to her childhood home. Her disbelief must have shown because the Colonel put a comforting arm around her shoulder.

“We need not remove from Pemberley anytime soon, my dear. I have the responsibilities of your brother while he is away and the building itself will take a long time to erect...”

“Georgiana!” The Colonel cried as his wife crumbled to the ground.

When he was absolutely certain she was out he worked as quickly as possible, unloading the carriage from its stowaway passengers. The child was obviously dead, the head dangled awkwardly as he carried her into the cottage. He could not bring himself to lay her on the floor but put her on the only bed available. The other two he dumped on the floor after dragging them over roots and stones. His cousin he had barely managed to get out of the compartment, at the back of the carriage, he tucked him into. One was dead, one was iffy... He gave them both an extra dose of the ether, to be on the safe side.  
It did not matter much. Hampered in both ends, there was no escape. The interloper would perish sooner or later. He did not mind if it was later, she deserved it for usurping his birthright. Well, not exactly his birthright but his due none the less.  
The little chit that she was, bewitching his cousin so thoroughly that he forgot his duty to his family. It was an unhealthy love, he had saved him from himself. Secured the bloodlines of Pemberley, their ancestors would be proud of what he had accomplished. 

He better get a move on before Georgiana came to, he had not given her much...

He lifted Georgiana into his arms and sat her beside him, holding her up with an arm around her waist.   
He gave the horses free reins. The thoroughbreds of Pemberley did not disappoint, forging out of the forest and down the road at a staggering speed. Georgiana groaned, it was not long until her eyes blinked against the setting sun.

“You fainted, my dear. I immediately put you in the carriage and set out for the comforts of Pemberley. We will be there in half an hour. Should we call for the doctor? I know it is common when you are enceinte... I am thrilled Georgiana and so soon after we married.” 

The Colonel wore a dreamy expression. Georgiana did not know much about the signs but she thought that fainting might be one. She would ask Elizabeth when she came home to Pemberley.

Their journey passed incredibly quickly. Pemberley came into view and before she knew it, she was tucked into her bed while her husband and housekeeper exchanged knowing looks.

~***~

Elizabeth felt the cloth cover her mouth and nose. The sickening sweet smell of rum had alerted her to its reappearance. She held her breath while it was applied and exhaled hard to remove it when the hand holding it, let it go. The cloth floated soundlessly to the dirt floor. 

She squinted at the light and saw pale polished hessian boots move over to the person laying next to her, kicking him in his ribs. The person heaved slightly by the impact but rolled back into position without any response. He was fortunate to be on his back while Elizabeth lay face down on the dust-covered dirt. Well, not too fortunate, he looked more dead than alive.  
The boots moved, Elizabeth hastened to close her eyes lest he was of a mind to give her another freshly dunked cloth...  
The door closed, soon receding horse hooves reverberated through the ground. Elizabeth waited a few minutes before she deemed it safe to open her eyes.

She lay on the floor in a small abandon cottage. Layers of dust coated every surface. She wanted to see who lay next to her. Turning, Elizabeth looked straight into Mr Darcy's ashen countenance. A similar cloth to the one on the floor was still tucked around his nose and mouth. Her hands were bound on her back and her ankles were tied tightly together, she humped closer in a most unladylike fashion. Strange thoughts one had when propriety was the least of her concerns. She supposed they were so engraved in her that it had become a part of her very being. 

She inched closer and bit the cloth with her teeth while holding her breath. The cloth was tucked firmly around his head but she managed to yank it away. Mr Darcy did not awaken, neither did his hue revert back to its natural colour. It was still an unnatural grey taint and his features were relaxed. Perhaps too relaxed? Elizabeth watched his chest for movement. His position was awkward, on his back with his hands tied under him. His chest was moving, she thought...

Elizabeth inched closer, lifting her torso with sheer back strength and put her cheek to his mouth. It was difficult to tell but she thought she might feel a faint warmth stemming from his mouth but she could not be certain.  
Elizabeth used to check the direction of the wind by licking her finger before holding it up in the air. It was much easier to feel a slight breeze on a wet finger... Her fingers were shackled at the moment but her mouth was not. Elizabeth let her tongue slide over her dry and chapped lips and rose to hover over Mr Darcy's mouth. There was definitely a slight breath emanating from him. Hopefully, he would come too when the effects of whatever the Colonel had given them, wore off...

The nausea resurfaced after her exertions. Elizabeth lay back on the floor and dozed off. When she awoke, the room was dark, night-time must have come upon them. Her stomach was protesting, the lack of sustenance made it rumble in dissatisfaction. The cold was seeping through her bones. Just a little more rest and it would all be well...

~***~

The birds were chirping happily despite her dire straits. She sighed and wiggled her hampered limbs, aching after being forced into one position for hours on end.

“I wondered when you planned to wake up.”

Elizabeth gasped and turned her head abruptly. Sending a new wave of nausea through her stomach.  
Mr Darcy was definitely alive... A perk when you wanted your hands untied, a disadvantage when all he did was quarrelling with her.

“I take umbrage with your accommodations, Mr Darcy. At least my cottage in Little Kings Hill had a wooden floor...”

“It is not my cottage.”

“No, but I suspect it belongs to a trusted family member. I do not suppose you know how we got here...”

“I do not...”

“Elaborate, please,” she added as an afterthought.

“Richard duped me into coming to the mausoleum, locked me in the crypt that is set aside for my passing and I guess he somehow drove us here. How, I do not know. Neither do I know where we are because I have never set foot in this cottage before.” Darcy explained in a firm voice.

“Keep your voice down. I heard a carriage leaving but I cannot be certain there are no guards left outside. We should try to keep as silent as possible until we know for certain no one is about. I cannot stomach any more of that wile, sickening rum he keeps pressing up against my nose...”

“It is not rum...”

“What is it then?”

“Ether. A recreational drug used in higher society in London.”

“How do you know? Have you used it?”

“Of course not but Richard swore to it when came home after he was injured in the Peninsular War.”

“I wonder why he had us drugged, bound and left to die in this godforsaken place. I wonder if it can have anything to do with a pile of limestone in Derbyshire. It must have been such a disappointment to him that I turned up from nowhere when he so cunningly had disposed himself of me. Bringing with me an heiress to his beloved estate...” 

“It is not his estate,” Darcy growled.

“It soon will be if you do not untie my hands.”

“I am of a mind to let you keep it.”

“How gentlemanly of you, Mr Darcy. My first impression of you was astoundingly correct. Pleasant towards your equals while behaving appallingly towards those you deem beneath you.”

“What did you expect me to do!” Darcy roared.

“Keep your voice down, you big baboon.” Elizabeth continued in a whispered voice. “I expected you to hear my side of the story before you tossed me out of your house.”

“I believe you must have felt the difference, in our heights, at the least.”

“I could neither see nor feel the height of the person standing behind me. I was stiff as a board, worried that one of the servants might happen upon us. They thought little enough of the Southern interloper as it was...”

“You were so timid, the first days of our marriage. Reluctant to remove your clothes when we were intimate, it is not so strange I started to wonder if I had been deceived by your professed admiration?” 

“I wonder if you were comfortable, stripping off all your clothes, strutting about the room on your first amorous encounter?  
It did not escape my notice that as opposed to myself, you were not such a neophyte.  
I had not even been naked in front of anyone in my family since I was, perhaps, five or six years old... It is not easy to be the sister of the most beautiful lady in all of England, to be constantly compared to the embodiment of female grace. Jane, being tall and slim while I was not...”

“No one is perfect, Elizabeth. Not me, not anyone I have ever encountered. It is exhausting to try to live up to your standards.   
I am flawed, prideful, conceited, I do not care about the feelings of others unconnected to me. If I was to carry the burden of every pitiful soul’s misery I would break under the weight but I wanted to be that man for you Elizabeth. I am not though, I can never be that man...”

“I did not expect you to, Mr Darcy. When I called you disdainful of the feelings of others, I meant my feelings. When I called you prideful and conceited it was because you pronounced me beneath you.” 

The room grew quiet. Done arguing, Darcy suggested they should try to sit with their backs to each other, working on the ropes around their wrists. Their hands kept bumping against each other while they worked simultaneously on each other’s knots.

“This is not working, we should take turns in undoing the knots,” Elizabeth pronounced annoyed.

“Leave it then, I will get you free then you can untie me,” Darcy retorted angrily.

“I am proficient with untangling twists on lace,” Elizabeth claimed.

“Have at it then.” Darcy rested his hands, making it easier for Elizabeth to work the rope. 

Eventually, she grew tired. Leaving it to Darcy to struggle with the tangles. She tried to sit up straight as not to lean on Darcy but her back ached and she gave in. They shifted again, Mr Darcy's knots had tightened while he tried to undo Elizabeth’s wrists. She suspected with his large hands, she would have an advantage with her slimmer fingers and long nails. With a newfound determination, she tackled the infuriating rope. Yanked and pulled with no concern for any damages to Mr Darcy's wrists. Finally, the first knot gave in, the others soon followed...

Mr Darcy reciprocated the service she had rendered him as soon as his hands were loose. Hands free, they both untied their own legs and went for the bed where their daughter lay motionless. 

Elizabeth, believing she was too late, cradled her daughter to her chest. Letting two fat tears escape their confinement when Ellie started to retch. Another two droplets escaped in relief and the mother's and father's eyes met, exchanging wordless communication. 

“We need to find water... And something to eat...” Mr Darcy's practical side, the side that drove him into action resurfaced full force.

“Try to be calm, you do not want to walk directly into the barrel of a gun or the tip of a sword. Let us reconnoitre the premises first.”

“There has not been a sound coming from outside since I awoke in the early hours of dawn. I will be careful...”

Mr Darcy was out of the door before Elizabeth could voice any further protests. Her mind focused on her daughter who had stopped retching and lay listless in her lap. She had been under the influence of the ether for an extraordinarily long time. Elizabeth prayed the effects would have no lasting effects. She had heard about the long term damages opium could do to a person...

Mr Darcy came back with a leaky pail of water but it looked clean enough.

“Where did you find it?”

“There is a well to the left, hidden under some shrubs but it looks decent and smells nice.”

“Good, did you see anyone about?”

“No, there is evidence of someone circling the cottage on the outside but there are no trails beyond the path leading here. The ground was still moist from the rain this morning. There are two sets of tracks, one leading in, one leading out.”

“I did not hear any other voices beyond the Colonel and his wife. I believe he might have given her a dose of ether as well...”

“The bloody bastard!”

Elizabeth turned her back to him. She would not let him see her pain. His precious sister obviously mattered more than herself or even their daughter.  
She busied herself with looking for usable objects for cooking or heating. She almost exclaimed with joy when she found an old flint and steel to ignite the fire. All she needed now was wood and something edible. It should not prove to difficult since it was summer.

“I am going out to find some dry wood.”

Elizabeth proudly showed him what her rummaging had procured.

“It was next on my agenda,” Mr Darcy informed her strode out of the cottage.  
The man could not leave her company fast enough...

A half an hour passed, Elizabeth sang to her daughter who was still drowsy.

Mr Darcy entered with his arms full of firewood. He put it beside the hearth and reached into his pocket for his watch. It was not there... He searched his coat for his money clip, it was not there either. Looking down at his hands, his signet ring was no longer on his finger.

“Do you have any jewellery on you?”

Elizabeth wondered what he needed it for but automatically touched her neck for her garnet cross, it was not there. Strangely enough, neither was her wedding ring.

“How peculiar, I have tried to remove my wedding ring for two and a half years. When I finally might need it, it is gone. I am lucky he did not cut off my finger for the coin he will receive at the pawnshop.”

“I doubt he will sell it...”

“Why else would he take it?”

“To make our deaths look like a robbery...”

“He does not know much about thieves, does he? A real thief would never let you keep your expensive hessian boots nor let our daughter keep her clothes. There is not a magistrate in the county that would think this was a robbery performed by highwaymen or cutthroats. Does not the Colonel read the news sheets?”

Mr Darcy did not answer. He had the affront to look hurt when she admitted to trying to remove her wedding ring. 

“Do not let Ellie out of your sight,” she warned and strode out of the door. Someone needed to find something to eat...  
She found some common polypody, Ellie liked to chew on the sweet root. It was not much but it grew in abundance under the shady old trees. She found some wild strawberries, raspberries and blueberries. She could boil a soup of it but they were just as good fresh. 

She was more thrilled when she found a patch of hedgehog fungi. She filled her skirt and tracked back to the cottage.  
Mr Darcy was outside with Ellie, removing the bark off an oak branch. Several twigs lay at his feet. She approached abashedly with her skirt raised to hold her catch.

“What are you making?”

“A bow and arrow.”

“Are you planning to stay here long?”

“No, but we need to eat while Ellie gets better. I have no idea how far we are from Pemberley, it could be hours, it could be days and even weeks. I am not certain where we are and we have no money. The bow will come in handy when we set out towards Pemberley, for food purposes.”

“We are not entirely destitute.”

“No, but we have no money.”

“Yes we do,” Elizabeth admitted. “I have a few pounds and shillings sown into my garments. One never knows when one finds oneself tossed out into the cold or how much one is allowed to bring...”

Mr Darcy bowed his head and continued to scrape off the bark with a pointed stone.

“What are you using for the string?”

“I was hoping you or Ellie had something I could use...”

“I will have to sacrifice my stays. It is the only lace that would suit.” 

Hopefully, she would be able to remove her secret stash of coins clandestinely...

~***~

Elizabeth cooked the mushrooms over the flames. Some butter would have been nice but at least they had plenty of dessert. They ate in silence. Ellie preferred the polypody and the berries, she wrinkled her nose at the mushrooms. 

The bow and arrows were done, all that was missing was the lace.  
Elizabeth removed her gown by herself, she wore mostly garments that was removable without the aid of a maid. Her stays were front laced. Mr Darcy offered to untie her but Elizabeth refused, she could do it herself. In a darkened corner she undressed, removed the stays and hastily pulled her gown back over her head.  
She removed the lace and handed it to Mr Darcy who walked outside to attach the lace to his bow. Hurriedly, Elizabeth cut out the five pounds and twenty shillings she had sewn into her stays. She removed the whalebones, they could probably be of some other use. The rest of the fabric she used as cloth. The cottage could do with some cleaning and Elizabeth needed something to occupy herself. Ellie got her own little cloth and happily dusted alongside her mother, humming a tune she often had heard her mother sing while doing chores in their cottage.

This picture of domestic felicity met Mr Darcy as he entered the cottage, a few hours after he had left. He proudly showed his ladies the two wood pigeons in his hand. It would serve as supper. He brought them back outside to butcher the pigeons. Usually, he kept only the two breasts but with not much else to eat, he would have to gut them and pluck the feathers. Elizabeth joined him and plucked the other bird. A swift image of the former Caroline Bingley performing the same chore popped into his mind. He almost chuckled, imagining the outrageous comments that surely would have followed. He had likened the visit to Hertfordshire to torture, how little had he known of true agony back then. Although he had known grief from an early age...

“Were you kept in a tomb as well?” 

The question came upon him somewhat abruptly.

“Yes.”

“Were you in the same tomb as me and Ellie?”

“Yes.”

“I felt someone tremble and heard something panting but I was afraid it could be one of your big Mastiffs so I preferred to be happily ignorant as opposed to being certain but scared witless.”

“Sounds like a good plan but the dogs are not dangerous and it was only me...”

Ellie sat on the ground, playing with the feathers. 

“I was once trapped under the floorboards at school. I have been uncomfortable with tight spaces ever since.”

“How is that even possible?”

“It is when seven or eight boys force you down and nail the boards shut.”

“Heaven forfend... Were you young?”

“No, not particularly. I was eighteen. Tall and lanky, all arms and legs. I matured late and you do not build much strength by sitting in your chamber, reading or studying...   
It taught me that I needed to build up my muscles. I always enjoyed riding but after this event, I rode a couple of hours every morning. I joined the fencing club at school and it turned out that fencing came naturally to me.   
I also entered Gentleman Jackson’s boxing academy when it opened in 1803. It was good exercise but I am too tall and slow to excel at pugilism. Not as I did in fencing at Cambridge... Anyway, Bingley heard the boys bragging and freed me moments later, it is why I am forever in his debt.”

It explained a couple of issues Elizabeth had wondered about. Why he had not denied Bingley entrance to Pemberley and why he had been shaking and panting in the tomb...

“Did you know why and who did this to you?”

“I do not know who, it happened too quickly. They grabbed me from behind and pulled a sack over my head but I suspect I know why. One of the attackers called me Molly. I was not interested in patronizing the houses of ill repute, I was shy and... I guess that made me a sodomite in their eyes.”


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 

Who will love you?

The Darcys waited another day before they set out for Pemberley. Mr Darcy had searched the nearby area, he was confident that the Colonel had not left anyone to guard his victims. 

The open road was a hazard in itself. They had not escaped being drugged and bound to be caught again, strolling by the roadside. They opted to walk through the forest, in distant sight of the road because they had no idea where they were until they came upon a landmark or town they recognised to determine their whereabouts. 

Trudging to the forest was exhausting on Ellie’s short legs. Darcy and Elizabeth took turns, carrying their daughter.   
Collecting their food was another time-consuming endeavour. Darcy tried to hide his disappointment when they had to stop for the day. Their progress had been painstakingly slow.   
Darcy busied himself with setting up camp, making a dry and sheltered place to sleep for the night, to hide his irritation. Elizabeth was not fooled but left him in peace until his disappointment dissipated by itself. He was not accustomed to taking a small child into consideration.

~***~

Two more days were spent in the woods before Darcy recognised the Inn in Darley Dale, halfway between Pemberley and Matlock. They were six miles from Pemberley...

The Darcys were dusty, dirty and unkempt but Darcy strode inside with his head held high. It took the Innkeeper a few moments before he recognised the most significant landowner in the area. When he did, the little family was served a delicious and most welcomed meal in a private room while horses were harnessed and attached to a carriage to convey them home.

~***~

Pemberley:

Darcy ordered refreshments delivered and bade everyone follow him to the blue parlour, as soon as he crossed the threshold. Mrs Reynolds locked taken by surprise which was a first for the stoic housekeeper. Elizabeth had no notion what the Colonel had used as an excused for their absence but it was obviously one that did not encourage public questioning and Mrs Reynolds had not expected them home so soon...

The Colonel led the flock with Georgiana hot on his heel. The Bingleys and Mrs Darcy trailed behind. Elizabeth had no wish to even be in the same room as the Colonel but Mr Darcy obviously was of another mind.  
He took the centre of the room and addressed them all.

“I brought you all here so that I can relate everything that has happened only once. Mrs Darcy, Ellie and I were abducted, robbed and left to die. We awoke from our drug-infused stupor in a remote cottage within a few miles of the Matlock estate. We were all tied around our hands and feet. The area was not familiar to any of us which lead to a convoluted return from a place that is little more than ten miles from Pemberley.  
I want you Richard and Georgiana to follow me to the Matlock estate to talk to the Earl. There must be a gang of highwaymen or gipsies on his land. He needs to be informed and act accordingly.   
Bingley, I am giving you the authority to act in my stead in any issues that may arise that Mrs Darcy cannot handle while I am away for a few days.”

Bingley nodded gravely. He had some years of managing his own estate but this was an unexpected honour.

“We need to eat and refresh ourselves but I hoped to be able to leave in a couple of hours. Richard and Georgiana, would that be sufficient time for you to pack and get ready to leave for Matlock?”

The Colonel and Georgiana replied in the affirmative.

“We are tired, hungry and could do with a good dusting. I hope this satisfies your curiosity for now. I will explain more thoroughly later. Mrs Darcy, Ellie, follow me please.”

Elizabeth and Ellie struggled to keep up with the master whose strength had rejuvenated after he entered his own home. He led them to the private sitting room between the master and mistress chamber.

Mrs Reynolds entered with a tray, another maid held a second tray. The food was welcomed heartily by the Darcys. 

“Mrs Reynolds, I need to leave as soon as possible. While I am away, I want Mrs Darcy and my daughter to be protected at all times. Tell Jonathan to come to my study in an hour. He will be the head of security, everyone will answer to him. In all other matters, I will leave Mrs Darcy in charge with Mr Bingley for support. You, Jonathan, Mrs Darcy and Mr Bingley are the only ones with any say in any matter. Mrs Darcy has the last word except for her own safety, I will leave that assignment in the capable hands of Jonathan. He is as of now, my new house steward and will be part of the upper servant team. I am taking my valet with me but I want his sister in Lambton to come and act as a lady's maid to Mrs Darcy.  
Arrange for bathwater for all of us to be sent up, please.”

“Yes, Mr Darcy. Right away, Sir.”

Mrs Reynolds bustled out of the room. The Darcys ate quietly for a few minutes before the nurse came to collect Ellie. Mr Darcy refused to let her go until two footmen were assigned to watch over her at all times while she was with the nurse.

Elizabeth felt a little uncomfortable being left in the sole company of Mr Darcy in quarters they had spent their few happy days together. She did not want to sully the memories of the only time she had truly been happy with these new circumstances. It felt like they were two different people back then. She knew she had changed but so had Mr Darcy...

“I am sorry that I have to leave but I need to deal with Colonel right away. I cannot bear to have him under the same roof as you and Ellie.”

“You are not going to let him get away with it?”

“Certainly not, I do not want him to be alarmed until I reach his father. There is only so much I can do. If I cannot convince the Earl that the Colonel has done this to us, there is very little chance I could win a trial in court. It is not fair but connections matter in the court of law.”

“What if they kill you?”

“They will not. Our abduction is known, it would be too much of a coincidence if I should have an accident as soon as I enter Matlock ground. My uncle cannot afford suspicions of that kind to befall his family. It would damage his reputation in the House of Lords which he would go to great lengths to avoid. I am perfectly safe because I intend to travel to Matlock with enough men to protect me. I will not allow the Colonel within ten feet of my person, you need not worry, Elizabeth.”

It was the first time he had addressed her as such since the horrid night at the library. It did something to her insides...

“I wonder were it leave us when I return from Matlock. These days in the company with you and Ellie has been enlightening in many ways. I miss you, Elizabeth. I hope that with time, your dislike of me will soften and perhaps some affection might grow?”

“I love you, Fitzwilliam, I always have and most likely always will. Those kinds of feelings cannot be turned off willy-nilly. Not even by sense, reason nor my own better judgment but I do not trust you. You can evict me from your house at any given moment, I cannot rely on you to protect me from danger. I am not your primary concern but I am my own, after my daughter who takes precedence over everything and everybody else.  
Time cannot be rewind, events cannot be erased. We have to find a way to live with each other. Hopefully, on amicable terms but we cannot go back, Mr Darcy...”

The truth of the matter hit Darcy in the gut. The magnitude of his failings robbed him of his breath. To atone for his transgressions were impossible, nothing came even close to rectify the damage he had done.  
He sat down and hid his face in his hands. He did not want Elizabeth to see his despair. He wanted to be strong but he had no more vigour left. It would be better for all concerned if he left...

Annoyed, stunned, horrified!

“In the library that night, you looked annoyed when I entered...”

“Yes, I was worried that any of the servants should happen upon us. I thought it was you kissing my neck and...”

Elizabeth clenched her jaw, she could not bear mentioning the other offence.

“I had not had enough time to establish myself as the new mistress of Pemberley yet. I was a gentleman’s daughter from the south that no one had heard of with no connections and little dowry. The servants were not unwelcoming exactly but wary and suspicious. I thought if I behaved impeccably and proved myself over time, they would come to respect me. I did not think that dallying in the library would serve me well, therefore I was a little annoyed which evaporated with the shock of seeing you at the door. Imagine the horror of discovering that it was the Colonel...”

Annoyed, stunned, horrified, the fog that had laid over the events cleared in his mind. It all became obvious. What had happened and what he must do.

“I have to talk to my steward before I leave for Matlock. If all goes according to plan, I will leave for London when the business at Matlock is finished. I have matters to discuss with my attorney. I will likely not return for a while... Goodbye, Elizabeth.”

He strode to the door, lingered on the threshold for what felt like an eternity but was no more than a minute. He did not turn when he addressed her.

“You were never destitute Elizabeth. The twenty thousand I put upon you through the marriage contract is yours. You have a bank account at Child & Co in London. The interest should provide for you, another thirty thousand will be settled on Ellie once I reach London. Goodbye, Elizabeth.”

~***~

Elizabeth’s bathwater was ready, she removed to her old dressing room. Somehow the servants expected her to stay in her old room and Elizabeth was too tired to protest.   
Elizabeth let herself drift to the bottom of the copper tub, submerging herself entirely under the water. A luxury she had not experienced in two and a half years. The tub brought up to the nursery was a small wooden one, built to fit a child.   
A maid entered and washed her hair but left her at peace when the task was done. Her thoughts drifted to Mr Darcy's departure. It was obvious he was going away for a time of some duration, perhaps he anticipating a long trial in court?

A heart was such a fragile thing, breaking too easily, impossible to mend once broken...

She would find contentment like she had experienced growing up at Longbourn. Two and a half years of struggle had ended. She had money that would see her safely settled in a decent house should the need arise...

~***~

By the time Elizabeth had dried her hair and dressed, the Colonel, Georgiana and Mr Darcy had left Pemberley.

Jane and Charles waited anxiously for her in the blue parlour while Ellie and Charlie junior were playing in the nursery. The two cousins enjoyed being in each other's company.

A week passed with no words from Mr Darcy. The second week came and went when a carriage was spotted, heading towards the house.  
Elizabeth thought that perhaps Mr Darcy had concluded his business a little sooner than he had expected. The carriage carried the Darcy crest.  
Elated, Elizabeth headed out on the portico to greet her husband. The carriage came to a halt and the footman opened the carriage door.

A tall distinguished gentleman alighted but it was not her husband neither was it anyone else she knew. Eagerly she waited for the next person to alight but to her disappointment, the footman closed the door and sent the equipage to the stables.

The gentleman approaches her with a superior mien.

“Mrs Darcy, I presume?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth curtsied.

“I am Mr Knightly, the attorney that handle your husband’s legal affairs. I have am some papers for you to sign.”

“Mr Knightly, would you like to refresh yourself before we proceed? Mrs Reynolds will see you to a chamber where you can rest a little.”

The attorney looked relieved. It must have been a gruelling journey at the height of summer.

“Yes, please, Mrs Darcy. That would be lovely.”

Mrs Darcy quirked an eyebrow at Mrs Reynolds, her back was turned to Mr Knightly. Mrs Reynolds answered with a barely conceivable affirmative nod.

“Mr Knightly, follow me.” The duo left Elizabeth who chaffed her own arms despite the balmy August air. She felt disappointed, apprehensive and knew exactly why...

Mr and Mrs Bingley looked surprised when she entered the parlour alone. They too must have espied the Darcy carriage coming down the road. 

“Is not Mr Darcy with you?”

“No, it was not he but his attorney that arrived. He must have lent him his carriage. He had some papers for me to sign... Do you think he wants to bring me a suit of divortium a mensa et thoro (separation from bed and board)?” Elizabeth whispered to her sister in particular.

Jane did not know what to answer and looked towards Mr Bingley for support.  
He met her gaze but was at a loss for anything to say. Could he be? It demanded more thought than a spur of the moment reply.  
Mr Bingley had tarried too long, Elizabeth was pacing in front of the windows. Her eyes flickered back and forth while her fingers were constantly worrying her lips. Jane rose and went to her sister.

“Do you not want a separation, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth’s hands flew to her chest, a few weeks earlier, the answer would have been a resounding yes.   
For better or for worse? Mr Darcy's worst was harrowing but she had pledged before God with her family as witnesses. 

“I hardly know...”

“I doubt Mr Darcy has had the time to bring the Colonel to trial for a Criminal Conversation...” Mr Bingley mused out loud. “It is a lengthy process that commands evidence and usually witnesses statements. The punishment is a hefty fine but I believe Mr Darcy would not settle for a simple loss of fortune. The scandal alone would be enough to deter him. It would render both of you social outcasts and neither would be able to remarry. Mr Darcy would no longer be responsible for you financially but it would be a small sort of forfeit for the Colonel's transgressions. No, I am quite certain it is not divortium a mensa et thoro Mr Knightly has brought with him for you to sign. Perhaps it is just a witness statement...”  
Elizabeth hoped that the attorney would soon have finished his rest and come to complete his business. The uncertainty was unnerving.

“How come that you know so much about the law, Charles?” Elizabeth inquired.

“I studied the law when I was at Cambridge. A particularly interesting suit from 1801 intrigued me because it was the first that was ever granted to a lady.”

~***~

Mr Knightly did not leave his room until supper, the conversation had to be postponed to the next day. Mr Knightly excused himself, he had developed a headache in the heated carriage and chose to retire as soon as the meal ended.

~***~

Afforded plenty of time to ruminate on the subject, Elizabeth pondered long into the night. The mistress chamber, she had not removed herself since the servants mistakenly had brought her there, offered a window seat overlooking a secluded part of the garden and the forest beyond. The woods looked so different in the summer, bathed in the silver light of the moon. It looked nothing like the gloomy wilderness she had trodden, blanketed in bone-chilling snow.

She needed to decide what she would do if the papers she was to sign come morning, was a request for a permanent separation from her husband. Her financial situation was no longer an issue since Darcy explained to her the conditions in the marriage settlement. Realizing that if her father had read through the contract, he must have known. 

Two scenarios were plausible. Either he had known and not bothered to inform her or most likely, he had not read it through, like most of his correspondence, ending up in the unread pile on his desk. It was extraordinary for a man so fond of reading that letters did not fall under the same spell...

Where her own sentiments rested were even more fogged and befuddled. Mr Darcy had treated her abominably, sending her out into the cold winter night to fend for herself. He had provocation but still...

Elizabeth tried to imagine the tables turned. Mr Darcy in an amorous embrace with a lady... It came to mind surprisingly easy, echoes from the past resurfaced in her mind. Events undermined by time but not entirely forgotten. Miss Bingley, now Mrs Elliot, cloying manners at Netherfield appeared in her mind. She had set her cap for Mr Darcy who had thwarted her efforts by marrying Elizabeth but he had not behaved dismissively towards her advances. He always met her overtures with politeness, neither encouraging nor discouraging. Elizabeth let her mind conjecture up a tableau of Miss Bingley leaning into Mr Darcy's embrace. Enjoying the frissons created by feather-light kisses and caresses...

Elizabeth jolted out of her seat and paced the room, her blood boiling in her veins. The image had seemed so real, like a memory more than a conjecture. Elizabeth acknowledged that the anger she would have felt if it had become a reality, would surpass any rage she had previously experienced. Yet, it may very well happen. It was not so uncommon for spouses to engage in explicit liaisons in the upper crust. If anything, it was more common than not, judging by rumours and news sheets. Mr Darcy would not be free to remarry but nothing prohibited him from taking lovers.

Elizabeth needed to redirect her thoughts, the path they were treading did not lead anywhere productive.  
The major issue was: did she want to be separated from her husband? Was there even a slither of hope of left for a reconciliation?

Searching the depth of her own soul, the answer was not what she expected but what she reaped. Love was a rebellious sentiment, devoid of justification.

~***~

“I strongly advised Mr Darcy against taking this legal action but he could not be deterred...”

Elizabeth’s stomach churned into a thousand knots. Mr Knightley’s solemn disapproval of what was about to be presented to her did not alleviate her misgivings.  
Elizabeth was seated behind Mr Darcy's desk in his study when Mr Knightley lay a thick paper down before her shoved it towards her. Elizabeth drew a fortifying breath and looked down at the dreaded object in front of her, squinting as it would alter upon closer inspection.  
She did not understand...

Old Bailey Courthouse  
7th of August 1815, (Admittance by Samuel Birch, Lord Mayor of London)

Fitzwilliam Thorne Alexander Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire transfers half of his estate, Pemberley in Derbyshire to his beloved wife, Elizabeth Vivienne Darcy.  
The estate includes Bluff Castle in Stonehaven Scotland, Glen Holme in Ireland, the Lake Cottage in the Lake District and Vue de la Mer Castle in France.  
Including carriages, boats, stables, outbuildings, tenant farms and mines. Also orchards, gardens, closes or parcels of land, meadow, pastures and woodland.  
Clause; The estate can only be left to offspring of the union between Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Darcy.

The deed was signed by her husband and the Lord Mayor of London.  
Mr Knightley removed the top sheet to reveal the next.

07th of August 1815

Office copy of the will of ys.d Fitzwilliam Thorne Alexander Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire.

He willed that all his just debts & funeral expenses should be paid and discharged by the executors out of his personal estate, half of Pemberley in Derbyshire and related estates by his time of death.  
Unto Elizabeth, his beloved wife, for & during the term of her natural life have the claim of half the income of the overall profit, he wills the right to live out her days at Pemberley, be mistress of the house and occupy the current master/mistress suite of rooms.  
Said personal estate, after satisfaction of funeral expenses and settlement of outstanding debts, a thousand pound legacy to his housekeeper Mrs Reynolds, a thousand pound legacy for his steward; Ian MacGregor and a 100 pound for all other servants, the legacy therein are left solely to the heirs of his flesh; Elysande Bennet Darcy and any other offspring the union with his wife, Elizabeth Vivienne Darcy should produce. 

Clause: Should there be no heirs and Elizabeth's demise precede him, he gave & devised the same to George Darcy of Somersby, his third cousin.

Executors: Charles Bingley and Henry Tilney.

Mr Knightley removed the second sheet when Elizabeth leaned back in her chair. Under the 16 pages will, with everything he owned listed, lay a sealed letter in Mr Darcy’s immaculate handwriting. Elizabeth Darcy was all that the folded sheet revealed of its content.

“I suggest I leave you in peace, Mrs Darcy. I will be in my room until I am called, should you have any remaining legal questions after you have read the letter.”

“Thank you, Mr Knightley, I admit it is much to comprehend...”  
Mr Knightley bowed and exited the study. Elizabeth regarded the letter suspiciously. The deed lay beside it, mocking Elizabeth for her uncharitable thoughts. She hid it in the top drawer, took the letter and removed to the mistress chamber. Perched on the window seat, she tore off the seal and read. A coward, she was not...

Dearest Elizabeth   
I have wronged you grievously, beyond redemption. I am not excusing my behaviour nor begging for forgiveness for the unforgivable.  
I want you to be ascertained that you will never again find yourself without sufficient means to support yourself nor will you be left without a roof over your head.  
I will state that I am an imbecile, too inclined to trust those who should not be trusted. I once informed you that my good opinion once lost was lost forever. I should have claimed that when my good opinion is given, it is never lost.  
My father loved Wickham (I refuse to call him mister because he is no gentleman), more than his own son. On that issue, Wickham related the truth. I remained the respectful, devoted but ignored son. My father taught me estate business but did not enjoy my company, I was dour, staid and shy. He was my father, I owed him my love and respect. If he deserved it is an entirely different matter.  
I only mention the fact to make you understand why I believed my deprived cousin. We grew up together, more like brothers than cousins. He was my staunchest protector against my father and later Wickham. On a few occasions when Wickham had framed me for something he had done himself, Richard took the blame upon himself. He proved invaluable when we rescued Georgiana from the clutches of Wickham. Wickham never mentioned Georgiana's indiscretion to anyone which was by Richards merit alone. I do not know what was said or done but Wickham’s lips were sealed.  
I have never had any reasons to doubt my cousin in the eight and twenty years I have lived but such has come to my attention that I should have formed suspicions at an earlier impasse.  
Have no fear, Elizabeth. The Colonel cannot hurt you. He has been committed to New Bethlem Hospital, St. George's Field, by a field doctor in the army. He will never be released but my uncle has secured him decent accommodations. He will be cared for and treated at the asylum.  
Richard completely unravelled when I confronted him at Matlock estate. His web of lies caught up with him and he launched at me in a moment of lunacy that has not culminated. He admitted during one of his ravings that he had been the instigator to my involuntary sojourn beneath the floorboards at Eton. I wish I had known or even suspected him of any dishonest behaviour. Matters could have been resolved differently, had I possessed a more discerning mind.  
God bless you,  
Fitzwilliam Darcy

Elizabeth stared unseeing out over the garden, her vision blurred, her mind boggled. 

There were no winners. Richard would never inherit Pemberley, even should Georgiana produce his heir which was doubtful. She admitted to Jane that her courses had come on the day of their disappearance. There was a slight possibility she could still be increasing but it was months before it could be established with any certainty.

Elizabeth's heart bled for Georgiana. So young and inexperienced with a husband committed to the lunatic asylum, her reputation in ruins no matter the outcome.  
Her own life had reverted back to a contented existence but happiness had been within her grasp, only to be ripped from her hands by a madman. It was not fair, not to herself, not to Georgiana, not to Mr Darcy. 

Elizabeth wondered who she would have believed had it been Jane in Mr Darcy's arms, instead of Caroline Elliot nee Bingley. There were no doubts in her mind that she would have trusted Jane, even Charlotte for that matter. Only Charlotte had worked behind her back to secure Mr Collins. Elizabeth did not begrudge her Mr Collins but Mr Darcy would have been another matter, simply because Elizabeth loved Mr Darcy...

~***~

Grey, Mr Darcy's valet's sister came to her mistress. Supper was imminent, would Mrs Darcy like to change before the meal? Elizabeth let her maid indulge her fancies and came to the dinner parlour with more adornments than was her want.

Jane and Charles waited anxiously for her but she did not want to relate the news with Mr Knightley present. He staid for supper but announced that he would leave for London at first light the next day if Mrs Darcy did not mind. Elizabeth did not...

Jane and Charles waited until Mr Knightley retired before they bombarded Elizabeth with questions. Much relieved that there was no separation nor a court trial in the making. The reality quieted even the loquacious Mr Bingley, rendering him uncommonly at loss for words. Elizabeth was quietly reflective herself. Opting to retire when the necessary particulars had been conveyed.  
Elizabeth’s last thought for the night was that the deed and will had been signed on Elysande's second birthday... 

*Separation was allowed in canon law, up until 1857. Only 276 cases were tried between 1765 and 1857.  
* A criminal conversation was the regency phrasing for adultery.  
*New Bethlem Hospital (Bedlam) was finished in 1815.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Georgiana was at Matlock's Derbyshire estate. Elizabeth went to retrieve the devastated girl home to Pemberley. Her world had shattered as much as Elizabeth’s. 

Georgiana spent much of her time apologising to Elizabeth.   
Elizabeth tried to convince her there was no need but she insisted to the point where Elizabeth could see the advantage of leaving her company and create some distance between them. 

To occupy Georgiana’s mind, she handed over the chatelaine to Pemberley. Begging her to take care of the household duties while she followed Mr and Mrs Bingley to town to do some much-needed shopping before the winter set in. Elizabeth loathed being chilled, she had been cold enough to last her a lifetime. Garments could be acquired in Lambton but Elizabeth wanted to be away for another purpose.

Jane and Charles were ecstatic when Elizabeth announced that she would venture to town, insisting that she joined them in their carriage. There was plenty of room. The Bingley's had journeyed to the north with two carriages. The children could travel in their nurses’ carriage when the adults wanted some peace.

Plans were made for departure a week hence. September was a comfortable month for travel, the days were not as hot while not too cold either.

~***~

London:

Jane had forgotten to mention a little detail called Mrs Elliot nee Bingley, and her husband, Mr William Elliot that were currently living in the Hursts townhouse. The reunion was lukewarm at best. Elizabeth soon discovered that two and a half years was not nearly enough time away from Mrs Caroline Elliot. Married to the heir presumed of a baronetcy in Somersetshire, on the condition that the current baronet did not produce a male heir nor outlive him, the baronetcy and Kellynch Hall would be his. The current owner was in his fifties, a widower with three grown daughters and fit as a fiddle. Mr Elliot's aspiration might yet come to nought, by Mrs Elliot's account, it was already settled.

“I would have thought you would stay at your own townhouse, Mrs Darcy. I understand you have not had the opportunity to visit it yet?”

“No, I have not.”

“It is much larger than my brother's and certainly more elegant.”

Mrs Elliot sent dear Jane what was supposed to be a sympathetic look that came across as a smirk. At least, Elizabeth hoped her meaning was not as condescending as she sounded, not to forget misplaced. Mrs Elliot seemed to have forgotten that the townhouse belonged to the Hurst family.

“I am removing to my townhouse on the morrow. Arriving at such a late hour, I thought it prudent to stay here for the night. Besides, Ellie and Charlie enjoy each other's company so much. It would be cruel to break them apart after they had both fallen asleep in the carriage. It is better for them to say their proper goodbyes when they awake in the morning.”

“Yes, I heard you had a daughter.” Mrs Elliot mentioned as an afterthought. “It must have been a gruelling experience since it kept you away from town for three whole seasons. I met Mr Darcy and dear Georgiana on many events around town...” 

Caroline smiled her sickening smile. The green-eyed monster reared its ugly head in Elizabeth’s imagination...

“It was difficult...” Elizabeth admitted. It was clear that Mr Darcy had not given any explanation for her absence else Mrs Elliot would not have needed to prod her.

“It must have been arduous to be unwell with all the renovations going on around you. I aided dear Georgiana on several occasions, picking out fabrics and colours.”

Elizabeth fought down the urge to shudder, somehow she doubted Mrs Elliot had had much influence. The colours at Pemberley were subtle and delicate, traits Mrs Elliot did not possess.

“Not at all, Pemberley is such a large estate. One need not be bothered if one has not the inclination.”

“Well, I admit that I have a hankering to see it for myself... Is Georgiana in town?”

“No, she is a married lady now, Mrs Elliot, she has much to occupy her time. She is busy with estate matters, I am certain” which was not a lie, it was not Georgiana's estate but that was a minor detail. She had momentarily forgotten that Mr Elliot did not yet possess an estate. Mrs Elliot’s countenance soured and she turned her attention to Jane, overlooking Elizabeth for the rest of the evening. An oversight Elizabeth did not mind at all.

~***~

Darcy House on Grosvenor Square was impressive, adding to Elizabeth’s apprehension that she was stretching boundaries with coming here without sending a message in advance. She felt an unjustifiable anxiousness that she might be rejected if she did.

She was here to offer her gratitude for securing her future and that of her daughter. She owed him as much. She knocked on the roof to alert Mr Bingley's footman that she was ready to alight. He handed her out and lifted Ellie into her mother’s arms. With a fortifying breath, she ascended the few steps and knocked on the door. A butler opened up and bade her enter.

“Whom should I announce, madam?”

“Mrs and miss Darcy,” Elizabeth replied and nearly gave the old butler at Darcy House apoplexy.

The butler bowed deeply and inquired if there were any luggage to be brought in. Elizabeth confirmed that it was and footmen were sent out to retrieve it.

“May I offer you a cup of tea while your chamber is readied, Mrs Darcy?”

“No, I thank you. We have just come from my brother's house on St James Street. Is Mr Darcy at home?”

The butler looked somewhat bothered.

“He is not, Mrs Darcy.”

“Do you know when he will be back?”

“No, Mrs Darcy but I am certain it will not be in the imminent future.”

“Why ever not?”

“Mr Darcy left several weeks ago and gave no indication of when he would return.”

A heavy stone settled in Elizabeth’s stomach. He was not here... Her journey had been for nothing. Where could he have gone? He had estates everywhere, he could be in Scotland, Ireland or heaven forfend France...

“Do you know Mr Darcy’s location, I have a letter I would like to send.”

“I am not at liberty to say, Mrs Darcy.” 

“Did he expressively state that I was not to know?”

“He did not, he asked me to tell no one which includes you. I cannot help but think he might not have meant you, Mrs Darcy but I cannot overrule the master's strict instruction. I will send him a letter to inquire, Mrs Darcy.”

“Let me think about it, I will let you know when I decide.”

Her chamber had been readied in record time. It was like she was expected... Perhaps Mr Darcy had anticipated her sojourn to town after Mr Knightley had brought her the deed on half of Pemberley and the copy if his will. Elizabeth acknowledged that it might be her Mr Darcy was avoiding by going away, leaving instructions to keep his whereabouts a secret...

~***~

Sleep does not come easy to those with a heavy heart and a burdened mind. Elizabeth pulled a dressing gown over her shift and padded downstairs in the dead of night, no longer so concerned about what the servants might think of her. A single candle in her hand lit up her path.

She found the library easily enough. Despite the largeness of the house, Mr Darcy had no separate study. A large oak desk was situated in the library.

Elizabeth could not resist sitting down in his chair and smell the leather. His scent lingered vaguely on the back. 

A notebook lay in front of her, the temptation proved too great. Elizabeth opened it... The book was empty but sheets had been torn out. Elizabeth let her fingers brush the empty page. It was blank but she could feel the indention from the words he had jotted on the previous sheet. Elizabeth had a strong urge to figure out what his last thoughts had been. She rummaged through the desk and found the drying sand. She spilt a little on the page and blew gently. The fine sand filled the little indentions on the page, a repetitive mantra emerged. Elizabeth knew exactly what she must do but first, she needed to sleep... 

~***~

“Jane, I have a big favour to ask you.”

“Yes?”

“Could Ellie visit little Charlie for a few days? I do not expect to be gone long... A week at the most.”

“Certainly but where are you going?”

“I cannot tell you.”

“It is nothing dangerous?”

“No, not at all.” 

Jane moved a little closer and whispered in her ear.

“You are not going to see the Colonel?”

“Certainly not!” Elizabeth replied firmly. She had no wish to ever lay her eyes on the Colonel again.

“Please, do not ask more of me. Mr Darcy is not at home and I am reluctant to leave Ellie in an unfamiliar house after the debacle with the Colonel. I would feel she was safer here than with only servants around. Your Mr Bingley has grown much in my esteem after he married you, dear Jane. Your influence has been the making of the man, I am certain of it.” Jane blushed prettily as Elizabeth expected, always so modest.

“Ellie is always welcome here, Lizzy.”

“Thank you, Jane. I will come by with her on the morrow. I have an engagement with the modiste on Bond Street in half an hour, I must run.”

Elizabeth almost forgot to ask when the Bingleys were planning to remove to Netherfield. Jane showed all the signs of increasing. Elizabeth surmised they would soon retire to their country estate for a longer sojourn. She was just about to inquire when she felt a presence behind her. She jolted away from the tall form of Mr Elliot. Hands flew involuntarily to clutch her chest while she yelped. Mr Elliot was solicitous, begging her pardon for startling her so but Elizabeth backed away. He was a glib man, a trait Elizabeth could not trust. Calmed, she left the Bingleys townhouse for a much-needed shopping excursion. 

~***~

When Elizabeth returned from Bond Street, one letter lay apart from the others. It was addressed to herself and wore a seal she recognised. She ripped it open and read its content. She had been summoned to Matlock House the next morning.  
Elizabeth had met the illustrious Earl and his wife but twice. It was the Lady of the house that had sent the invitation for morning tea but Elizabeth had planned to leave.   
Resolute she penned a missive to the Countess that she was away on said morning but would be happy to oblige her on a future date.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15 

The Depth of Love:

Elizabeth approached the cottage she had resided for two and a half years. Strolling down the path she had walked so often...

Chopping sounds reached her long before she could glimpse the working man. At first glance, she halted but he did not notice her. He was attacking the logs with his shirt open and his sleeves rolled up over his elbows, unencumbered by the snippy September air. He was hard at work and fully focused on the task before him. Elizabeth worried that if she made herself known, he would startle and hurt himself regarding the ferocious pace the axe hit its target.

The view was rather pleasant to look upon but she allowed her gaze to wander the premises. New land was being worked upon, allowing the resident to grow more vegetables come spring. The roof had been mended, the new thatch stood out with its lighter colour. It was still a dreary place in Elizabeth’s mind. A lot of gruelling work was required to keep warm and fed. Elizabeth did not miss much of her days spent here. It was lovely to experience the peaceful solitude on occasions but there was rarely any time left after the necessary chores were done to enjoy it. Perhaps she was mistaken, coming here might break her heart all over again.

~***~

He must have worked too hard to conjecture up such a vision, a mirage created in his mind.

Sweat was running down his face and in between his shoulder blades. No matter how hard he worked himself, he could not erase her from his mind. Like now, standing before him with a dreamy expression on her countenance. Elegantly dressed, graceful in her bearing, in starch contrast to her modest surroundings. Eerily still, as a ghost or an apparition as this image before him probably was. 

Was he losing his mind like his dratted cousin? If he was, he was not opposed to moments like this, gazing upon the beauty before him...

Stealthily he approached, the illusion did not vapour into thin air but remained unmoved as he advanced forward.   
He could reach out and touch her, he wanted those beautiful eyes directed at himself, not towards the wilderness beyond... 

But of course, had those eyes been directed at him, the expression would have cooled significantly.  
Mr Darcy gaze dropped to the ground, he shoulders slumped. He had no one to blame but himself. A master of his own misery. He deserved to live like she had, to experience the hardships he had foisted upon his love...

“He is winning, we cannot let him.”

Mr Darcy jolted out of his self discriminating thoughts.  
The most beautiful eyes he had ever encountered was directed upon him and he could not process a single thought in his mind.   
How the tables had turned... He was dishevelled, sweaty, unkempt whilst she stood before him, impeccably dressed. He used to believe that your superficial appearance mattered, that it provided you with some kind of distinction amongst others. 

“He is winning and we are letting him win without a fight.” She repeated.

Darcy regarded Elizabeth, something had changed within her. Her eyes did not shoot daggers nor did they hold contempt.

“Do you want to fight, Elizabeth?”

“I do. He sought to divide and conquer, a well-known military stratagem. I resent that he has succeeded in dividing us despite the fact that he did not conquer the land. We are both his victims and both deserve leniency for our transgressions that was created by the hand of man without reason.”

“I cannot forget so easily the mistakes I have made.”

“I know, I expect you to gravel at my feet on many occasions.” 

Elizabeth smiled while Mr Darcy sank to his knees.

“I did not mean literally...” Elizabeth tried to lighten the mood but Mr Darcy did not rise to his feet.

Elizabeth hunched down before him, pried her dainty fingers under his chin and tried to lift it but he did not allow her. Suddenly, she was on her feet, enveloped her in his arms, his head resting on hers.

“These past years have been a torment but I cannot imagine how we can go back. You said so yourself...”

“No, we cannot. We were different people back then. The only route is forward, carrying our past with us. It will take much effort on both sides. Sometimes I will resent you, sometimes it will be the other way around. Quite natural feelings because the hurt was so profound but I do not want to let him win. Do you?”

“No... No, I do not. Not because of Richard but for the reason that of I love you beyond reason, I would never have acted so despicably if I had cared less.”

“I know. Neither would I...”

Holding on to hope, the Darcys embraced for the longest moment. Darcy was afraid that if he let go, she would change her mind and hurry back to her carriage.

“Is the carriage waiting by the main road?”

“No, I sent it on its way.”

“To London?”

Elizabeth chuckled. “No, unlike you, I have no wish to stay here any longer than necessary. It reminds me of years I do not wish to relive if at all possible. It was a daily struggle, Fitzwilliam.”

“I know, I cannot fathom how you managed.”

Fitzwilliam drew a shuttering breath, letting up his fierce hold on her a little and tucked her head under his chin.

“Every breath I drew was a waste without you in my life, Elizabeth...”

A dam broke, she trembled with the effort to hold back... Her eyes prickled. No matter how hard she swallowed, the lump persistently fought her every breath. Elizabeth buried her face in Fitzwilliam's chest, her arms snuck around his waist and let the dam crumble. Tears mingled with sweat, left a salty trail down Mr Darcy's torso.

“If I could change...”

Elizabeth shook her head vehemently. Regrets served no purpose, neither did wishing to rewrite events that could not be altered.   
Elizabeth drew in a deep fortifying breath and stepped back.   
Fitzwilliam looked away, perhaps hurt that she had broken the spell they were under. Elizabeth patted down her hair, it was damp... A gust of wind rattled the yellowing leaves.

“It is getting chilly, let us go inside and discuss matters.”.

Fitzwilliam strode to the cottage, Elizabeth followed. 

“I have no tea to offer you, nor coffee for that matter...”

Elizabeth smiled, he was certainly thorough when punishing himself.  
Fitzwilliam poured water in a basin and cleaned himself up. Elizabeth turned away, embarrassed. Mr Darcy clenched his jaw.

“I struggle to imagine how this could work if you cannot bear to look upon me...” 

“I thought you wanted privacy...”

“I am your husband Elizabeth, even more than being away from you, I fear you being distant and aloof.”

“I appreciate you sharing your fears with me. I worried you would believe me wanton if I did not turn away while you were doing your ablutions. I also fear your reaction if I talk to or even smile at another man, however innocent the context.”

~***~

Dusk had fallen when the Darcy carriage reached Bingley's townhouse. Elizabeth thought it was too late to pick up their daughter but Darcy had been adamant she was coming home with them.

They had been shown into a parlour while the housekeeper fetched their daughter who had not been put to sleep despite the late hour. Little Charlie was teething and Ellie stayed awake in sympathy with his plight. The nurse and Jane had tried to lull them to sleep to no avail.

Ellie came running towards them, stomping her little feet, making it sound like a herd of elephants were coming, not a two-year-old girl.

Elizabeth was a little envious it was Fitzwilliam that got the first hug as her daughter ran straight to her father. It had been a long time since father and daughter had seen each other... Mr Darcy swung his daughter up in the air to her squeals of delight.

“Ellie’s Papa!” She exclaimed, grabbed his face and landed a wet kiss on his cheek. Her chubby arms entwined his neck and hugged him fiercely.

Elizabeth watched Fitzwilliam’s eyes grow misty. The immediate bond that had formed between the two was one of the many reasons Elizabeth had reached out to Fitzwilliam for a reconciliation...

“Mr Darcy, how good to see you. It has been too long for such good friends...”

Elizabeth had forgotten about Mrs Caroline Elliot, or more likely eradicated her from her memory. Her nasal voice was the last thing she wanted to hear when all was going so well...   
Her glib husband following a few steps behind. Elizabeth had never taken to Mr William Elliot, for more reasons than the fact that he was Caroline's husband. He made the hair on her neck stand on end...

“How lovely to see the two of you together in the same room. It must be nearly three years since I last had the pleasure...” Caroline simpered at Mr Darcy before she smirked at Elizabeth.

“The pleasure is ours, Mrs Elliot.” Which could be interpreted into several different implications. Mr Darcy bowed to Mrs Elliot and nodded towards her husband. “Mr Elliot,” he limited himself to the short acknowledgement. 

“Ellie’s Papa,” Ellie claimed possessively. When it came to sharing her papa she was proprietorial.

“I am sorry to leave you so soon but Miss Darcy is in desperate need of a good nights sleep. Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs Bingley, and good night.”

Elizabeth startled a little when Mr Darcy mentioned Miss Darcy. She had nearly looked around for Georgiana when she realised that Ellie was the only Miss Darcy now. It delayed her departure by a few seconds, Mr Darcy had already quit the room when she came to her senses. She hastened after him and entered the carriage for the short trip to Darcy House.

~***~

Miss Darcy had fallen asleep on her father’s shoulder. Not even a change of clothing woke her up. She received a kiss on her cheek from both her parents of which she remained oblivious.   
Mr and Mrs Darcy continued to master and mistress suite of rooms for an awkward goodnight. Both stood indecisive in front of the mistress chamber, uncertain on how to proceed. Had it been their first month of marriage, kissing would have ensued and the master's chamber had been the only bed with wrinkled linens. As it was, both beds would be used by a solitude occupant, the question in both minds was if there should be a kiss or not?  
Neither had the courage...

“Good night, Elizabeth.”

“Good night, Fitzwilliam.”

With a sad smile, Mr Darcy turned and went to his own room. Elizabeth remained in the hallway until his back disappeared behind his door.

~***~

The next morning, the Darcys honoured their promise to the Bingleys about explaining Elizabeth’s sudden departure and speedy return. Unfashionably early to break the awkwardness that had descended upon them. Elizabeth was more relieved than anything else when her husband removed from her company to visit Bingley in his study. She needed Jane, her calm presence would soothe her mind. Impulsively chasing her wayward husband, Elizabeth had left little time to ponder how they would accomplish to feel comfortable in each others company when they returned home.

Elizabeth was shown into the front parlour where Jane usually received her morning callers.

“Jane!” Elizabeth did not leave the butler enough time to announce her before she was halfway across the floor.  
She was about to relieve her heart when she noticed that Jane was not alone.  
Languishing on a sofa sat Mrs Elliot with a sleeping pug in her lap.

“Oh, Mrs Elliot, a pleasure to see you.” Elizabeth curtsied but the eagerness was gone. Hopefully, Mrs Elliot would be called away...

She was not, but droned on about her new lap dog, Mr Elliot’s prospect of inheriting the baronetcy Kellynch and engagements they were looking forward to in town. Elizabeth and Jane listened politely but not with much interest. Both sisters longed for solitude.

~***~

Mr Darcy had more luck in his endeavour. Mr Bingley received him with coolness but hearing Darcy's rendition of events, culminating with their wish to put the past behind them, his rigid position softened or perhaps he let it rest because he missed Mrs Bingley... 

Mr Bingley wasted little time joining the ladies and eagerly found his seat beside his wife. Mr Darcy, however, was indecisive and was nearly caught by Mrs Elliot's fangs. His usual spot, gazing out the window would not do, it might read as an insult to Elizabeth. Mr Darcy wished for a sign that Elizabeth welcomed him close to her person but she was ignorant of his conundrum. Resolute, Mr Darcy chose to stand behind the settee his wife occupied., away from Mrs Elliot but close to Mrs Darcy without intruding too much on her person. Looking down he noticed her fiddling with her skirt when Mr Bingley's butler announced several visitors. The three ladies were shown into the parlour and gravitated towards Mrs Elliot while sending surreptitious glances towards the settee.

“Mrs Dashwood, Mrs Rushworth, Mrs Ferrars!” Mrs Elliot cooed while the ladies were seated. “How good of you to call. Have you seen my new pug?” She patted her dog out of its sleep while sending barely veiled nods to the settee.

“No,” Mrs Ferrars offered, “pugs can be quite unruly... Its fur seems dull and tattered. Try giving it raw eggs, I have heard it might bring back its brilliancy.

“Thank you, Mrs Ferrars. I will attend to it as soon as convenient.” Mrs Eliot smirked before remembering herself. “Where are my manners... I completely forgot you have not been introduced to the elusive Mrs Darcy.” 

Polite pleasantries were exchanged, Elizabeth had been appraised and found wanting in all ways that mattered, her apparel, her posture, her air and manner of talking. 

Darcy noticed the disdainful looks and chided himself for not attending to his wife’s wardrobe. Her three-year-old gowns might suffice at Pemberley when they were not entertaining but the demands of town vastly differed. He made a mental note of fixing an appointment with a modiste, preferably on Bond Street but time was of the essence.  
He was caught up in this conundrum when the door to the parlour opened again to admit little feet and a tired nanny.  
Elysande darted past her mother, hands stretching towards the imposing figure behind. Darcy glanced towards Elizabeth as he lifted his daughters up into his arms. She smiled with more warmth than he would have afforded towards her daughter’s blatant demonstration of preference.   
He was awarded a sloppy kiss to his cheek and chubby arms encircled his neck for a few moments before the toddler started to squirm in his arms. He reluctantly put her down on her feet and she immediately ran to little Charlie, giving him the same treatment she had given her father.   
Charlie junior visibly shuddered at the lips impact.

“I will marry Charlie,” Ellie pronounced proudly while patting the smaller boy on his head.

“No!” was the instant reply as his little feet carried him hastily out the door. Ellie ran after him and the nanny sighed and turned to follow.

“I will handle it,” Elizabeth interjected. Darcy made to follow but Elizabeth stalled him with a light touch to his arm.

“Thank you, Mrs Darcy. They have been at it since Miss Darcy arrived.” 

Elizabeth smiled benevolently and exited with her sister Jane and the nanny, close on her heels.

Mr Bingley's eyes widened when he noticed his abandonment with the tittering females and Mr Darcy.  
An excuse was swiftly produced to retreat back to his study with Mr Darcy who was the excuse in the form of some papers Mr Bingley had forgotten to show him. Darcy could only be thankful that he had not been abandoned but he did not remove himself quickly enough to totally avoid the snide remarks about his wife...

He utilized the moment of respite to borrow a messenger from Bingley to make a run to Bond Street. No lady of his house should elicit derogatory remarks due to her apparel but there were other ways to work the ton.  
As he escorted Elizabeth around town on various shops, he made sure to make small clandestine detours to various specialists. Jewellers, mainly, buying trinkets and larger pieces. The rumours about the besotted and relieved Mr Darcy needed no more encouragement. The rumour mills had it that Mrs Darcy had been gravely ill, it had been impossible for Mr Darcy to even speak about it but she had miraculously recovered from death's door and was currently being showered in gifts by an alleviated husband.  
Soon they were spotted on numerous occasions about town, the theatre, Vauxhall Garden, the Menagerie, the museum. 

~***~

Elizabeth entered Mr Darcy’s study. He did not look up, his eyes were fixed on the letter before him with the impressive letterhead.

“Am I disturbing you?” Elizabeth inquired, half turning to exit the way she had entered.  
Mr Darcy looked up with an unreadable expression.

“No, please, come in. I guess I better tell you...”

“Bad news?” Elizabeth sat down primly on the chair before his desk.

“I do not know what to make of it... I have certainly never sought such distinction but I cannot well refuse it either. No, that would definitely not do...”

Elizabeth was more bewildered than enlightened by that explanation.

“Pray, what distinction?”

“I have been knighted by the Prince Regent for my services with apprehending Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

“The Prince Regent is knighting you because you committed to Bethlem, the man who accosted your wife?”

“Not exactly. I discovered, during my interrogation of him, that he had killed his Colonel during the Peninsula War. It eventually led to the elevation to Colonel for himself. The death had made their superiors suspicious but with no evidence nor confession, they had let the matter rest. I had to notify his general when the sordid tale was revealed to me. The Prince Regent has obviously become aware of the fact and has decided to award me with a knighthood of The Royal Guelphic Order, Knight of Grand Cross is the highest rank of the order with the motto; Nec Aspera Terrent which means ‘not afraid of difficulties’. He probably awarded it to me for turning in my own relative, he is not informed about the good reason I had to act in this manner, of course. My chivalry would not be perceived as quite as self-sacrificing had that been commonly known...   
What say you to the change from Mr and Mrs Darcy to Sir Fitzwilliam and Lady Darcy?”

“Oh my!”

“Exactly, we have no option but to comply. A ceremony will be held at St James in about a month. It will prohibit us from returning to Pemberley for some time and we need new garments appropriate for court.”

“Hoop skirts and trains?”

“Something like that...”

Darcy rose and rounded his desk and gathered Elizabeth’s hands in his.

“It is not so horrid... If Georgiana could manage to curtsey before the queen, we can bow to the Prince Regent.”

“You do not think I would offend the Prince by bowing instead of curtsying?”

Her impertinent remark, a remembrance of the past, made Darcy forget himself. He pulled Elizabeth into his embrace and felt her entire body stiffen. Chastising himself for his thoughtlessness, he pulled away but her arms snaked around his waist and held him tight.

“I am sorry, I...” Elizabeth’s voice was muffled by the coat her countenance was buried in.

“I do not want to force my attentions on you, Elizabeth. I notice that you are not comfortable with me which is natural and just.”

“I am not uncomfortable exactly. I worry that you will deem me wanton if I...”

Darcy tightened his grip around Elizabeth, pulling her as close into his embrace as possible.

“I have never thought you wanton, Elizabeth. Not before, not now...”

“But why have you not exerted your marital rights? You must be in want of an heir if not...”

“I have an heir, an adorable one at that but I cannot imagine you could tolerate my person, much less forgive my offences. Heck, I cannot even forgive myself...”

“The first few weeks of our marriage was the happiest of my life,” Elizabeth interjected to his torrent of self-reproach.  
Mr Darcy’s back went rigid.

“I am sorry...”

“No,” he exclaimed vehemently. “Do not ask for forgiveness. I am content with having you and Ellie in my life. The contrary would have been a bleak existence.”

That night, Mr Darcy left a tender but chaste kiss on his wife's lips. A week later, she no longer tensed at the gesture and he let his hand trail down her cheek before he turned towards his chamber.

~***~

St James Palace

The throng of the evening was crushing. Elizabeth surmised that they had invited about the double of what the ballroom could hold and everyone was in attendance.   
Mr Darcy was now Sir Fitzwilliam, she was Lady Darcy. Equal in consequence to Sir William, her old neighbour in Meryton.

“I want to go home.”

“Certainly, I think we have put in the acquired amount of time expected.”

“That would be lovely but I meant away from London.”

“You want to visit Longbourn?”

“Yes, but I meant Pemberley...”

“Even better...”

~***~

The only one who opposed to the scheme of regrouping to Pemberley was Ellie. She was not at all inclined to leave Charlie and threw a tantrum worthy of an almost three-year old that rattled the roof of the Bingley's townhouse and awarded her the first mild reprimand from her father.  
She immediately ceased her wailing when her father told her to be quiet and stopped demanding a baby brother (obviously, they only came in brothers), immediately. The Darcys were crimson by the time her daughter was finished with her fit of temper. It added to their embarrassment that not only Mr and Mrs Bingley had witnessed the episode but Mr and Mrs Elliot as well.

Longbourn

“Sir Fitzwilliam, Lady Darcy and Miss Darcy to see you, mam,” Mrs Hill announced to the almost empty front parlour of Longbourn. No frantic tidying was necessary when the house was empty of daughters.

Mrs Bennet was eerily quiet, even for a single person. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was gaping. Elizabeth rushed forward in case her mother was about to faint.

“Please, be seated, mama. There is no need to stand on ovation for our sake. Shall I call for your smelling salts?”

Mrs Bennet grabbed Elizabeth’s hand a and patted it with the other while shaking her head. She sat down on the settee and pulled Elizabeth along to sit down beside her.

“I quite despaired of ever seeing you again, Lizzy. I am so glad you have come to visit your poor mama.” She turned towards the two other occupants in the room. “Thank you, Sir Fitzwilliam, for bringing my daughter back to me. I have had this dreadful feeling that something sinister was afoot... Nothing but her very presence could alleviate my fear. I can see now, with my own eyes, that all is well. Now, let me see my granddaughter. She is shy, not at all like her mother who never has owned an ounce of timidity, fearless in all her dealings, even as a child.   
She is beautiful, Lizzy, even if most of her countenance is hidden against her father’s neck. Oh, I have quite forgotten to congratulate you on your elevation into knighthood, Sir Fitzwilliam.”

“Thank you, Mrs Bennet.”

Mr Bennet had been alerted of his exalted guests by Mrs Hill, he had stirred from his book room to welcome them in person.  
Mrs Bennet would not hear of a brief stop at Longbourn before they continued their journey north. They begrudgingly acquiesced to one overnight stay, assuming they could depart early the next day. Netherfield was closed up since the Bingleys were in town, the night had to be spent at Longbourn.   
An uncomfortable silence stretched out. It was clear to the residents of Longbourn that the Darcys would have liked to continue north while it was equally obvious to the Darcys that the invitation to stay was a bit one-sided.

“Mrs Bennet, how was Elizabeth as a child?”

“Talkative and inquisitive. She could talk until your ears bled.”  
An impressive number of humorous anecdotes later, the Darcys retired to the guest room.

Elizabeth held no regrets visiting her childhood home of Longbourn but it had made it glaringly obvious she no longer belonged here. Her heart had rooted in the wilds of Derbyshire.

Their sleeping arrangement, however, created greater havoc on her equanimity. She had not shared a bed with her husband for the better part of three years. The guestroom had one bed, neither was it a particularly large one...

Elizabeth changed to her night attire behind the screen, by the time she had finished, Darcy had stretched out on a rug on the floor. Her persuasive entries did not move him to her side.

He had his limits. His guards were still up...


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Pemberley added another layer to their interactions. No longer flitting about from one engagement to another, the Darcys had much time on their hands, together with little distractions.

It was not awkward but their previous intimacy was gone. They interacted with ease if not warmth. Darcy had thought Pemberley would have made them more in tune but instead, it made him conscious of the distance that still lingered between. The remedy quite escaped him... Not was he eloquent, neither was he apt in wooing a lady. Not that wooing necessarily would send the right signal. 

For each day that passed, the realisation of what they had lost sunk in. Despairing of ever being able to atone for his mistakes, desperate measures must be taken.

He had shown her every civility, even left her, to spare her from the burden of his company. He had paraded her around town in token of the pride he held for having Elizabeth for wife, he had made sure that every comfort was made available for her, yet he could not break the abstract barrier that had formed between them on the blasted day in the library.   
He would write her a letter, he could express himself better on paper than in person. The previous letters he had written had been received well. Not wonderfully but well and it had been a valuable means of changing her opinion of him. Yes, a letter would do.

Dearest Elizabeth   
I am half agony, half hope. Parts of me believe I do not deserve it while  
the other part insists that you do.  
There is nothing I would not sacrifice for the chance to act differently at   
the moment that drove us apart but I cannot.  
The mistakes are carved in stone, insurmountable obstacles that have been   
lodged between us as we go around our daily routines as both strangers and  
friends.  
If it takes one day or a thousand years, I will never give up hope that   
one day this wall will crumble and my soul will reunite with yours.  
Is this a part your hopes and dreams too? Do you yearn for the essence   
that once were us, Elizabeth?  
Do you lay awake long into the night, wondering if I am sleeping   
comfortably or are you tossing and turning until the sun yet again  
forces her way over the hill?  
Do you remember, Elizabeth, the brief moment in time when we could  
hardly bear an instant apart from each other?  
The pull never left me, I am still drawn to you like water in the   
desert or the single candle glowing in the dead of night.  
If you were the sea, I would like to be the wind caressing you.  
If you were the wind, I wish for wings to glide on the breeze.  
Still ardently in love and  
eternally yours FD

Fitzwilliam folded the letter and hastily walked to Elizabeth’s room and pushed the letter under her door. He could hear it gliding across the floor until it hit an uneven floorboard with a muffled smack. 

It was done, there was no turning back now. He padded back to bed but sleep still eluded him. His first letter was written in anger, the next in anguish while his last was written in melancholy. He could not decide which was worse... He groaned and drove his hand down his face. What would Elizabeth think when she found such a maudlin letter, scattered on the floor? Or heaven forfends, a nosy maid found it... He had not sealed it, the wax was in his study and he had not bothered with it.

Mr Darcy padded back to his bed and sank into the downy mattress.

The floorboards creaked like it was want to do when the chill of the night made the wood contract. The sounds of the house soothingly familiar, his eyes grew too heavy and closed on their own volition.

He drifted into a state between awake and asleep, he felt like he was falling but he could not be bothered flail. He knew it was sleep coming to claim him, wetness touched his cheek in an unfamiliar way. A heaviness draped over him but it was a comfortable cover.

“We are two wretched beings, are we not, Mr Darcy?”

His eyes slowly opened to an apparition of loveliness. Her hair curtained her cheeks and cast long shadows across her countenance but those dark eyes that had captivated him, almost at first glance. Those eyes shimmered in the obscure light from the single candle on his nightstand. Arresting his thoughts and compelling him into action.   
He reached for her hand and pulled her to him, she did not resist his tug but blanketed him with her self. He held on, clutched her to his person. A light linen cloth segregated the union from being complete but it did not matter. Elizabeth was in his arms, wetting his chest with her tears, it was cleansing... His cheeks were equally moistened. 

~***~

Darcy woke at dawn, feeling rejuvenated. No words had been spoken but peace pervaded his essence. Elizabeth lay in the crook of his arm, a leg draped across his lower extremity while an arm was tightly woven around his torso. He kissed the top of her head, her arm tightened, she was awake.  
Indecision ruled until he decided to be brave. He lifted her countenance with a finger under her chin and touched her lips tentatively with his. Soft and tenderly he kissed her once more, revelling at her not pulling back from him.

She never did pull back nor flinch at his touch. A new delicate beginning was blooming. A late spring after a particular harsh winter that would make Pemberley prosper for the next generations to come.  
By the next summer, the Darcys had another daughter. Three years later they had a son, Ellie finally got her baby brother.

The End


End file.
